Silence
by MystyVander
Summary: Harry and Draco fall into a love so deep and pure that nothing can stand in their way. Not even death.War is over but Harry is left a haunted man, as Seventh Years begins who is going to be there with him in the Silence?And When had Draco become so quiet?
1. Part One

**Silence:**

**Part One**

Dedication: This fanfiction is dedicated to Patrick Conry, a fellow HP fanatic. 3

Summary: Harry and Draco fall into a love so deep and pure that nothing can stand in their way. Not even death. War is over but Harry is left a haunted man, as Seventh Years begins who is going to be there with him in the Silence? And when had Draco Malfoy become so quiet?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and unfortunately my name is not J.. Though for the duration of this fan-fiction, we can pretend it is. ^_^

Warning: This is a Dark!fic, and also a Slash. There will be heavy boyXboy beginning at the end of part are themes of death and darkness, morbidity and depression. Don't worry, there's also lots of love!

A/N: Hey there, this is Mysty Vander signing into my new fan-fiction! I hope you enjoy this one, which will be written in four parts (not chapters). Please read, review and enjoy!

P.S this is based on the song 'O, Valencia!' by The Decemberists.

And a HUGE MASSIVE HUG-FILLED THANKS to my lovely, amazing Beta, PeruvianDarkness! With love.

_You belong to the gang_

_And you say you can't break away_

_But I'm here with my hands on my heart._

_Our families can't agree_

_I'm your brother's sworn enemy_

_But I'll shout out my love to the stars._

_So wait for the stone on your window, your window_

_Wait by the car and we'll go, we'll go._

A light fog bristled across the streets of London; very few people were trotting around the streets- most were stumbling home from a long night at the bar.

It was another dewey, early Sunday morning as a barely seventeen year-old boy made his way slowly across a cobblestone street. His feet dragged, and his shoulders were hunched as his deep emerald eyes concentrated on the muggy sky above him, watching the sun slowly rising over the clouds and streaming across the rooftops.

Harry James Potter pulled his small, deep brown leather jacket close around his toned body. His unruly raven coloured-hair had grown so that the fringe fully covered his faded lightning-bolt scar. It now fell down in a messy shag around his hard jaw line. He wore fitted, torn jeans and a plain black t-shirt. His rounded glasses were replaced by contacts, making his astonishingly emerald eyes more noticeable.

As he walked, his head felt clear of most thought. His worries had drifted away with the wind which was brushing against his tan skin. It had been another late night with Marcus, the twenty-one year old bartender he had met at one of the local Muggle pubs earlier that summer. It had begun as simple, meaningless conversation about the weather or Muggle politics, but then it progressed as he and Harry began meeting outside of the pub for dinner, late night movies, and then, suddenly, Harry began spending his whole nights with Marcus.

It was the first week of August now, and things seemed to be running steadily for the young man. He had become accustomed to living on his own; he had become to thoroughly enjoy it. He was finally able to choose what to do with his time and, along with that, he was able to slowly discover who he really was.

There wasn't much he'd learned in those months. Other than the fact that he had become very withdrawn, accustomed to a deep Irish malt, more independent, open to both sexes as bedding partners, and that he rather enjoyed his silence, Harry did not feel as though there was anything more to him than just that. He had learned that he loved his silence above all things.

For in silence, one could clear their own thoughts and queries- they could be whom they were without a mask, without any pretences. The past didn't exist in silence; not to Harry. The future was something of a facade, the punch line at the end of a comedic act.

He came upon a long, narrow, one-way street that was setback a few blocks away from the business district of London. He had bought a flat in this area because it wasn't too far from the Ministry, but it was back enough that he wouldn't be running into Wizard or Witches he knew. At least not everyday. There was the few oddly dressed man or woman whom passed him in the streets and got a glance at his scar, gawking as he continued on without a second glance. Harry had grown far too weary of the Wizarding public, so he decided it best to keep his contact with them to a minimal. If he wasn't around any Wizarding folk, he wasn't brutally reminded of what happened only eight months ago.

Harry shuddered to think of it. It was the only memory that really brought much emotion to him anymore, the only one that jolted some kind of real reaction from him…

It had been last December when it happened, during Christmas break of his Sixth Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was being prepared for Final Battle over the accumulating months beforehand with wandless magic lessons taught by Albus Dumbledore, Occulmency and Legilmancy lessons with Severus Snape, and, of course, more practical duelling lessons with Remus Lupin. Some other Order members pitched in occasionally, too, each with their own lessons and advice. It had been gruelling- all of the training ontop of dealing with his link to Voldemort, which was constantly burning into his skull. He had paid barely any attention to his school work that first term, but none of the Professor's ever mentioned a thing and the other students all shyed away. All except the few annoying ones that could not take the hint.

Though it didn't matter anymore, for it was part of the past. A place Harry didn't have to deal with, shouldn't go back to. But for some reason, he could never keep that one memory out of his head for long.

As he was training one evening just before dinner at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place ,a few days after Christmas, he heard a blood-curdling scream emitting from the fireplace in the drawing room. Harry and Remus both shared a quick glance of panic before bolting down the narrow, steep staircase past Mrs Black's boisterous portrait, screaming after them.

"YOU UNGRATEFUL HALF-BLOODS! YOU MUGGLE-LOVING SCOUNDRELS, IN THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK! HOW DARE YOU?"

When Remus and Harry had arrived, everybody turned expectantly towards the Sixteen year-old boy, sweat beading down the side of his face underneath his rounded glasses from duelling practice. On the floor was Molly Weasley, holding the battered, bleeding corpse of her husband, Arthur, in her arms. Nymphadora Tonks had her arms around Molly's back, calming her by speaking soothingly into her ear. Remus was staring shock-shelled at the man on the ground as Ron stood still as stone with his hand on his Mother's shoulder. Hermione was on the couch, bringing a handkerchief to her sobbing eyes.

Harry looked at the broken woman, weeping over her husband. He stared down at Arthur, who was somewhat of a father figure to him, like Remus was. He didn't just look dead, but he looked like the last few minutes of his life definitely weren't full of joy. A small storm started inside of Harry when he saw that, his bottled-up emotions brimming at the lid. The faces of many who died before him flashed in his mind, but he shook them out quickly as the anger and rage continued to rise.

Years of suppression were at work here, and his strong inherited magical core worked in succession, the energy in the room changed over to the boy. It was as if somebody had opened a window when a cool, haunting breeze swept through the room- his emerald eyes were slitted with pure, iron hatred. A deep primal growl erupted in the base of his throat- he clenched his fist around his wand.

"Where?" he growled deeply, everybody slack-jawed at how threatening he sounded. How could so much be coming from somebody so young? They had all underestimated the power of the Prophesied boy.

"What do you expect us to do; just waltz right in there?" Remus screamed over to Harry heatedly- he knew the boy had a rash head just like his Father. Harry turned towards the second last living Marauder and glared daggers, his breaths coming in short heaves.

"Where was Arthur's patrol tonight?" he spat venomously.

"I'm not telling you, Harry! We need to contact Albus immediately and-"

Harry had had enough of this talk. The clock was ticking. He raised his wand to Remus' throat and glared deeply at the man. He had grown a lot in the past few months, so he wasn't much shorter than his elder. Remus swallowed heavily as energy emanated from The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"Do not test me, Lupin," he growled. Slowly, Molly raised her head from her husband and over to the heated scene. With tears glistening on her face, she spoke in a strained whisper.

"In Mostrove, three miles South of Hogsmeade" Harry snapped his attention towards her and smiled as kindly as he could, even with all that rage still bubbling over himself.

"Where Kingsley and I patrolled before?" he quipped, for he knew that if he'd been there previously, it would make things much quicker.

"Yes, but Harry, you mustn't go!" Tonks pleaded, but would not remove her arms from around Molly's back, "It's not safe- we need to get a Defence Team together and all coordinate to the scene!"

"There isn't enough time for that! Now, you can come with me, or you can stay. Either way, I'm leaving," Harry snapped and without further ado, he apparated with a loud crack from the drawing room at Grimmauld Place.

Hermione, Ron, Remus and a reluctant Tonks weren't far behind him.

They arrived in absolute chaos. This was a War. The air was cold and brisk, a light snowfall an inch above the ground. But the snow wasn't pure and white like you'd want it to be that time of year; it was tainted with mud and blood, scattered with whole and incomplete bodies. Immediately, as if second nature now, Harry mentally threw up a Protego shield around the entire group of them without so much as waving his wand.

It was Mostrove alright. Harry recalled walking up and down those streets only last night when he was patrolling with Kingsley Shacklebolt. He didn't have to do patrols, especially on his holidays, but Harry liked to be kept informed as best as possible and this was one of the ways he liked to be involved in.

There were many Death Eaters, raiding the homes of Muggle and families and Wizards in hiding. The magical families were being rounded up as best as possible on the street with not so much as a fight. There wasn't anything anybody could do, for it looked like Voldemort had his entire fleet in the small village that night.

"Split up and help who you can, however you can. Try to Side-Along Apparate as many as you can to safety, use any fireplace hooked up to a Floo network if possible. Wizard and Muggle alike, get as many out of here. And stop as many of his lot as you can- stun them, disable them, kill them, I don't care." Harry finished barking his orders darkly, glad that there was too much chaos for anybody to have noticed the five of them shielded off to the side.

"Harry! You cannot possibly think you can just stroll in here without a Death Eater informing Voldemort of your presence?" Hermione hissed hurriedly, grabbing onto her friend's arm above the elbow to stop him from moving. He had cocked his head towards her and glared icily before bringing his own fist up on top of his head, disillusioning himself silently.

"Go. Now!" he had ordered again, this time more harshly. In pairs, they ran off into the darkness and Harry didn't waste a second longer. He knew what was happening that night…he had felt it coming for weeks. His scar had been acting up, he hadn't had a decent nights sleep in days, he had lost his appetite over the anticipation for this moment and he had trained with every last second of the days that had gone past. He wanted vengeance. He wanted to see that… creature that called himself a man, let alone a Lord, writhe in pain and agony. Suffering for all that suffering he did unto others.

Harry had no idea what to think of his growing vile hatred towards what once was Tom Riddle, all he had known was that it was the purest emotion he had inside of him. He also knew that this was the night he was going to allowed to finally act upon it, to revenge those whom he cared so deeply about that had fallen because of the War.

The stalky, muscled boy quickly thudded his way through the town. He followed his instincts and connections until he reached the outer gates, thankful for not having been noticed the entire journey there as the brutality continued around him. His scar was beginning to burn, searing pain jolted through his body that he threw off with a familiar hiss.

"Harry Potter, trying to run away now, are we? Abandoning your little friends so soon?" a twisted cackle sounded from behind. It was that ice cold voice Harry had heard at the Ministry at the end of Fifth Year, the same shrill speech he had been introduced to time-and-again over the past few months.

Turning on his heel, Harry came face-to-face with Voldemort himself. Though, he was not alone. Six Death Eaters flanked his sides, all still wearing their hoods and masks. Harry thought the snow looked ironic against their black robes.

"I was merely looking for you, Tom," Harry spat deeply, his eyes building with fierce passion.

"My, my. Quite the temperment for such a coward, don't you think Potter?" Voldemort snarled in response, inching ever so closely to Harry's face as he drew his wand.

"Expeliarmus," Harry whispered, his eyes never leaving those red slits before him. He relished in the Death Eater's shock when Voldemort's wand flew from his slithery fingers into Harry's. The boy looked up at the Dark Wizard's astonished face being quickly recovered with a bemused smirk.

"Looks like somebody has been training," he drawled icily, "But who says I need my wand to kill you, Harry?" Voldemort quickly reached up and grabbed a tight hold around Harry's neck as all the Death Eaters stood with their wands raised. Pain erupted through Harry at various points; his scar felt as though it were tearing his pounding head in half from the closeness he shared with Voldemort, and the grip on his neck felt as if it were crunching all of his bones together. He was wheezing momentarily, getting ahold of himself and pushing the pain away.

Harry very calmly brought the wand up close to their faces and a snap could be heard, echoing in the air around them. Harry's eyes filled with mirth as Voldemort became enraged, his broken wand falling down onto the dirtied snow. The ebony-haired boy was beginning to feel light-headed from the hands gripping tightly around his neck, so he closed his eyes and lolled his head backwards to concentrate. He had trained for this. It was now or never. Now or never. He needed to do this.

Cedric Diggory, James and Lily Potter, Sirius Black, countless Muggles, the Creevey's, Minister Cornelius Fudge, Rubeus Hagrid, Arthur Weasley...their faces kept playing through Harry's mind, fueling the power that was resonating and building in his core.

As he snapped open his eyes, they weren't emerald anymore. They were a crimson red. The distant screams of the attacks pounded in Harry's ears along with his own heartbeat, so that they fell into rhythm together. "Anima Translatum," he spoke clearly.

Harry had known for months now, ever since the Prophecy had been revealed, that he had a part of Voldemort inside of him kept alive through their connection. Harry pushed that connection out as forcibly as he could, ignoring all the pain that tore through his body as he did so. He willed his power and strength together in memory of the fallen, he was vaguely aware of Voldemort's screeching cries.

"Avada Ked-"

"Stupefy!" Harry used the simple jinx with such force, that Voldemort was knocked full off his feet and sent swirling a few meters back, knocking over a Death Eater with him.

Before the Dark Lord could even get back up onto his feet, "Avada Kedavra!" Harry yelled, but the green light didn't seem to be enough. Voldemort stirred on the ground and was bringing himself to his knees as the Killing Curse evaporated.

"You think you can kill me, Potter? You think that I can be defeated by a sixteen year-old boy and an Unforgivable?" Voldemort sneered, staggering to his feet, as he did so casting the agitated Death Eaters a glance to back down. Potter was his.

"Aaaargh!" Harry found himself yelling, bellowing through-out the night in rage. Tears hot in his eyes, blurring his vision as he rushed forward with all the physical force in his body. He slammed hard into Voldemort, quickly materializing the dagger that had been resting against his stomach in its pouch as always. Dumbledore agreed that it was more than necessary for Harry to be carrying more than just his wand as protection.

Voldemort attempted to throw the boy off of him but Harry had grown- he was bigger than this scrawny creature now. He had bulked up on muscle, so that when he crushed down on him with all his force and had Voldemort lying on his back as he dug the first hit deep into his ribcage, he punctured his lung. Voldemort wheezed out and began struggling further, but the Death Eaters still did not interfere. They could not make a move without their Master's consent, the Dark Mark disallowed it, so until that Master was dead...

Harry pulled out the sharp blade and brought it hard down upon the thing's chest. Blood spurted up onto the boy's face, which he ignored, a large grunt coming from inside of him. He kept thinking of all those faces, those people whose lives had been taken so carelessly. Hundreds, thousands of people's lives that Voldemort had ruined because of the things he did. He thought about these things as the dagger moved swiftly in and out of the frail body beneath him, crushed into the winter floor.

He had learned that Voldemort was all talk and curses, all magic and outside force. He, as a being himself, was not all that powerful without his wand. Harry had learned his weakness, his lack of physical strength, and had been waiting to use it against Tom Riddle.

As the knife continued stabbing, Harry became more raged with every blow. Until he was certain that the man had stopped any form of life, Harry turned to face six angry Death Eaters with curses on the tips of their tongue as he was bathed in the blood of their former Master.

"Stupefy!"

"Expelliarmus"

"Pertrificus Totalus!"

"Crucio!"

Various hexes, curses of both light and dark hurtled their way towards Harry, who threw up the strongest Protego he could muster. He wasn't infamous for nothing, as they all bounced off minimally damaging clear shield.

Harry's wand lay forgotten in his pocket as he pounded towards the first Death Eater he could reach. It had all been a blur from there on in, and Harry honestly couldn't tell anybody what actually happened… because the next thing he knew, he was laying in the snow with seven dead bodies around him. The crimson red clashed against the soft white, Harry was panting heavily ignoring his inflicted injuries from the fight he did not recall.

In the process of the physical battle, the Death Eater's masks had come off. Harry knew the faces to be; Macnair, Crabbe, Goyle, Bellatrix Lestrange, Nott, and Lucius Malfoy. He slowly caught his breath and shot red sparks into the air, alerting any of the group that remained of his location. Harry had taken one last look at Voldemort, scowling down at the creature before kicking him hard in his unmoving ribs and stalking back towards town slowly. His body shook with the aftereffects of the fight, and when he came up, Mostrove once more it seemed as though the chaos had stopped.

Dozens of Aurors and Order members alike had been called to the scene, even Dumbledore and Kingsley Shacklebolt were there in the midst of it all. Muggles were being treated first off; Healed by St. Mungo's Healer's and Obliviated. Wizards and Witches were being taken quickly to the Hospital itself, and the dead were being levitated out and away from it all. Any fires were being calmed, and all the screaming had ceased as the sobbing began.

Harry stumbled forward… he had felt weak and ragged. His life goal that he had been set out to do was done. Once and for all, it had ended and he had gotten vengence for all those lost lives. Those poor souls could rest easy now.

"Harry!" Remus was the first one to spot him, he ran over away from a small group of Auror's he was assisting. Upon coming close enough to see Harry rightfully beneath the moonlight, Remus gasped and his entire body stilled. "Harry?" he asked softly.

"M'fine," Harry assured, even though he didn't really think the werewolf was asking about his own personal condition. More people were collecting around him more; Dumbledore, Hermione, Ron, Tonks, Kingsley, Fred and George Weasley had even been called to the scene. "Voldemort's dead," he croaked out.

Hushed whispers vibrated through the whole village of Mostrove it seemed. The Dark Lord was dead. Gone.

"Come now, Harry, lets get you straighted up, and we can speak later," Albus said softly. Everybody had now turned their wide-eyed attentions to Harry's blood soaked figure.

"You should probably go and collect the bodies," Harry mumbled, cocking his head to where he had come from.

"Bodies?" Hermione choked out, asking what everybody else was thinking; There was more than one? Bodies already littered the streets, but most were killed by trace curses and the Killing Curse. But the blood on Harry suggested something different.

"Yes. Bodies," Harry repeated more firmly this time, "Macnair, Crabbe, Goyle, Bellatrix, Nott, Malfoy Sr., and Tom," he finished listing them off. Everybody's eyes had widened considerably.

"How did you-" Ron began asking quietly, but was cut off by Dumbledore who stepped in front of the entire group.

"The situation is under control now. The remaining Death Eater that are alive have fled in small numbers. We are looking to follow their Apparition traces, but for now we must get you to Hogwarts, Mister Potter," Dumbledore said, and Harry had no query with that. He merely nodded and grabbed onto the Headmaster's arm to allow himself to be Side-Along Apparated away from the crowd, out of the cold.

After Harry had relayed what had happened, unable to really give the true events after murdering Voldemort that night, nobody ever looked at him the same way again. He was no longer Harry Potter, the innocent Gryffindor who sat quietly behind his rounded spectacles. He had become a cold-blooded murderer to them. He still saw it as what needed to be done, though the images of those seven dead bodies haunted his every thought.

Yes, Harry shuddered to think about what had occurred eight months ago. He shoved it deep down inside of himself, buried it beneath a cool mask that he had come to live by. Whenever he was around Wizarding folk, he was shied away from, feared and praised all at once. It was too much for him to handle, and strangers would come up and thank him or others would scream that he was a murderer. Harry learned to ignore them, though their words hit something deep and hard at the core of his being.

That was why he chose a flat outside of the magic world to live for the summer before Seventh Year at Hogwarts. He would have just gone to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, which was now emptied of the Order and rightfully his own. But he had contractors working on it, making it back into the Noble House of Black it once was, not the mess it had become. It would be completed by the time he went home from Christmas holidays that year.

Harry felt safer and happier around Muggles. They didn't know who he was, they found him attractive and unique, or they didn't notice him at all. Things only got strained and awkward with them when they caught a glimpse of his faded scar on his forehead, they would question it and he would make up a story. He would usually say that when he was a little kid he had fallen down stone steps, recieved a severe concussion and was left with that mark. They would believe him, which he was more than grateful for. He wasn't The-Boy-Who-Lived who murdered Voldemort and his inner circle, but just some stranger passing by on the street.

Once coming to his flat, Harry flicked on the dimmed light. It was a small one, just with all the necessities and nothing more. A bedroom, a bathroom, a grim kitchen. There wasn't much colour to the rooms, everything was a dull, molded grey. He didn't spend much time in it anyway, so he didn't mind. He was usually caught up at the library, reading Muggle fictions, or taking long walks in the park or sneaking into pubs underage to meet strangers and talk the evening away.

He didn't feel like sleeping that morning, he had a little nap in Marcus' frail arms before he left. He never liked to stay the full night, not really expecting what to do in the morning. This whole thing was new to him, but Harry was catching on quickly. Dates, phone calls, flowers, chaste kisses, hand holding, he knew this was all customery but he didn't care much for it. He didn't even care much for the sex; even though he had never gone all the way with anybody, he still didn't care for the playful nature of it. He just needed a way to keep himself distracted, and dating seemed to be it.

Harry sat down at the kitchen table, having retrieved a few pieces of parchment, quill and an ink bottle he began to write to his friends.

Dear Ron and Hermione,

It's Harry here. I hope you guys had fun at the World Cup. Sorry I couldn't make it again, I just had too much on my mind. I expected to get an owl to hear who won! You guys know I don't read that Daily Prophet rubbish anymore, so there's no way I could've known.

How is everybody doing at The Burrow? If Molly needs any help, you guys be sure to let me know straight away and I will arrange whatever is necessary that needs to be done.

Have you spoken to Dumbledore this summer as of yet? I am surprised that he hasn't paid me a visit for weeks, and I just received my school letter too. Maybe we could pick a day to meet in Diagon Alley and we could all get our things together? Just a suggestion, I'd rather not have to go alone.

There's not much to say on this end. I just came back from another date with Marcus. I really like him. I mean, I think I do. He's got the prettiest blonde hair, and those baby blue eyes too. But it's just his personality is so...boring. He doesn't really do anything besides work at the pub. I just wish there was something more to him, something deeper. It would make things a lot more interesting when we go out to dinner. The conversation has become terrifyingly dull.

Anyways, I will see you guys on Wednesday. Send Ginny my regards.

Take Care,

Harry J. Potter.

Harry sighed softly, then folded the letter up and set it aside. He didn't want Hedwig to have to make two trips, and he still had another letter to write. He was grateful that his friends accepted his new dating self, and that they were even slightly interested in it. It gave him something to talk about with them, because he was sure that there wasn't anything else anymore he could talk about. He pushed the thought from his head and got to writing his second letter to Remus. He quickly updated him as well and assured him that he was doing just fine. He knew that the werewolf worried himself sick sometimes over him. It wasn't as though he didn't appreciate it… Harry just wanted space to breathe.

After sending Hedwig, his snowy white owl, off into the early morning to deliver the two letters, Harry curled himself up in bed to drift away. He slept soundly, ignoring all the screams in his nightmares. Afterall, he had heard them a thousand times by now.

The days passed by, melting into one another until Harry's weeks of summer began one long, everlasting day. He never looked at a clock, for time did not matter to him. He had no obligations, no place to be specifically. He was satisfied, though not happy. As Wednesday rolled around the second week of August, Harry paid his weekly visit to The Burrow.

Fred and George were there on those days as well, which is why he chose them to come over. They would play a quick game of Quidditch out in the field with Ron and Ginny as well, Hermione sitting on the side lines watching. This Wednesday was no different and, after they soared around on their brooms they all landed and headed back towards the house.

Most of the Weasleys had quieted down a lot after Arthur Weasley's death, but they were still somehow the cheery crowd they were before. Harry was envious of them in that respects- they could get over a big tragedy and still come together at any point of time. He felt alone and parted from them ever since that December. He was no longer considered 'one of the family'.

"So, when would you guys like to head to Diagon Alley?" Harry asked, his hands inside his jean pockets as his plain t-shirt stuck to him from the sweat of the Qudditch game.

"We've got a killer sale a few days before school starts, you should come then," said Fred

"We promise to give you a bargain,"

"You'll go bonkers over some of our new inventions," Fred and George countered one another. Some things never changed. Ron was grinning, his arm slung around his girlfriend lazily, who was smiling softly as the group entered the kitchen.

"Alright then, how does the thirtieth sound, then?"

"Good," Harry shrugged. He was a man of few words these days, and everybody understood it. They didn't push him or prod him, which he was grateful for again.

"C'mon, dears! You must all be absolutely famished from the heat! I've got sandwiches and tea prepared," Molly greeted them cheerfully, and although there was a smile plastered on her face. Harry noticed that a gleam in her eyes had gone. It had died the same day as Arthur had, and Harry felt as though he was the only one who recognized this.

Comments like "Thanks, Molly" and "Thanks Mum," immediately followed before the children tucked into eat, Molly tottered off to the living quarters as she began cleaning.

"So, how is Marcus doing?" Ginny asked after a few minutes of everybody eating. Harry shot Hermione and Ron a quick glare for having told the girl about his personal love life, but the two merely blushed and concentrated on the food before him. He didn't mind much, but it still meant something to him if they couldn't keep their traps shut about it.

"Er… fine, thanks," Harry shrugged, his voice in a monotone. He knew it sounded dead.

"Got yourself a keeper then, Harry?"

"Tell us, is he good looking?"

"Well he has to be Fred,"

"And why do you say that, George?"

"Well, he has Harry's attention, doesn't he?" the twins turned identical grins towards Harry who looked away from them, his stone cold emerald eyes finding something interesting to stare off at in the distance.

"He's fine, I said," Harry repeated himself, "Boring as hell," he added in as an after thought. It was the truth. He found himself becoming shallow, understanding that the only reason he still kept going on fruitless dates with Marcus was because he was something pretty to look at. Harry was fascinated with his blonde hair.

"Well, Dean's doing just fine too, thanks for asking," Ginny grumbled, a tinge of pink on her cheeks. The brothers didn't like it when their younger sister brought up her boyfriend, but Hermione was always quick to her defence.

The conversation picked up from there as Harry pretended to listen in idly, though his thoughts were always drifting off. He always tried to drown out their voices and all the sounds around him, attempting to achieve that utter silence he loved and cherished so dearly. The silence that made everything right again.

It was a long day for him at the Weasleys, somehow longer than the rest. Harry felt as though the greater he distanced himself from his friends, the more he found he didn't enjoy their company any more. It was like a chore he had to do on a weekly basis, but for some reason he kept doing it. It made him feel normal. And with returning to Hogwarts in two more weeks, he understood that he had to get used to being around Wizarding folk once more.

When he left that afternoon, he said his quick goodbyes. Ginny made a move to hug him, something nobody had attempted to do since after the Final Battle. Harry's eyes narrowed and he backed away from her, not saying a word before turning an Apparating back to his own flat.

He hated being touched by those who knew. The ones who judged him, who saw him as the famous Harry Potter, the defeater of Voldemort. He only could stand being physical with Muggles, the strangers in his life. Harry suddenly felt like he needed a drink, but he wasn't in the mood for running into Marcus.

So he grabbed his summer cloak and fastened it around him, and without him checking his reflection over he strode out onto the streets towards the Leaky Cauldron. Harry needed a Firewhisky to clear his head of all thoughts. To clear his head of the Weasleys. As he made his way into The Leaky Cauldron, everybody's eyes followed him burning holes into him. Harry ignored them the best he could, burying the scowl that fought its way to his face.

He sat down in a seat at the bar table, he eyed Tom the barkeep wearily. "Firewhisky, Tom. Please"

"Of course, Mister Potter," Tom bowed his head lightly and let a fleeting glance up at Harry's scar before hurrying off and retrieving his drink which he then set down in front of the boy. He bit his lip, unable to speak and hurried off to socialize with the other customers.

Ignoring the whispers around him, Harry concentrated on the drink burning down his throat. He felt it fuzz his brain as he chugged it completely, swallowing the bottom of the drink and slamming the glass down on the counter. "Tom, keep them coming would you?" Harry called gently, the man nodded and topped off his glass before turning to a newcomer whom sat beside Harry.

"And for you, Mister Malfoy?" Tom asked, his voice strained.

The name snapped Harry into full attention as he turned to see Malfoy Jr. sitting beside him. He didn't look like how he used to. His silver eyes were dull and empty with bags underneath them, though his platinum hair still shone against his pale, pointed face… but it was the way he held himself that stood out. His shoulders were hunched, his posture despicable, and his mouth always turned into a soft frown instead of a scowl.

Harry couldn't really explain it, but he found him beautiful at that moment. There was so much truth, so much reality in those sunken eyes. Then there was his hair, so blindingly bright and soft looking Harry was tempted to reach out and touch it, feel it twist between his rough fingers. The boy ordered a drink, quickly given by Tom and his slender hand wrapped neatly around the glass. He chugged it just like Harry had and ordered more.

"Malfoy-" Harry began slowly.

"Draco, Harry. My name is Draco," the boy corrected in a dull, cut-off tone. He didn't even turn his head to greet him. Harry realized he was staring, becoming slightly embarrassed when Malfoy-Draco- shifted uncomfortably on his bar stool.

"Right. Hi there, Draco," Harry spoke, the words sounding so odd and foreign on his lips. Though, he admitted that he didn't mind saying the boy's first name. At least that meant he didn't have to associate him with his late Father.

Reality rushed back and hit Harry hard in the face. He hadn't just murdered this boy's Father, but he had brutally killed him with his bare hands. His blood had been one of the person's blood that soaked Harry that night eight months ago.

"How are you doing?" he asked softly… he really didn't know what to say to him. Was he supposed to apologize?

"Fine. Glad that I finally got myself out of the Manor. My Mother was practically driving me to ," Draco drawled, taking a sip from his drink as his eyes bore holes into the counter top. His free hand was resting lightly on the table, his long brittle fingernails rapped lightly and Harry was mesmerized by the simple action.

'This is the same boy who has been tormenting me at school for the past Six Years?' Harry gaped, because it really didn't seem like it. Just sitting beside him, Harry could feel a total difference.

"How?" Harry finally asked, his voice was broken and quiet. Just like Draco's was too.

"I am now the Head of the Malfoy Estate. Much business to attend to," Draco rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat with a deep sigh, he rubbed his forehead. "Rented a room upstairs for the rest of the summer, just so I could get away from it," he explained.

"Oh," was all Harry had to say in response.

The two sat there for what felt like five minutes but turned into hours. They did not speak, they did not move from their seats. All they did was quietly drink. Harry had never shared his silence with anybody else, but it seemed as though Draco enjoyed the silence just as much. No, he needed it. He needed it just like Harry did. They were oddly comfortable with this, but they did not speak of it.

Harry was curious. Where had the Draco Malfoy he knew and… well, disliked at least, gone? The one that couldn't keep his mouth shut or his money in his pocket? Where was that git Harry was used to? 'That part of Draco must have died with his Father' he thought gloomily.

"Draco, listen I'm sorry about-"

"Don't say it," Draco cut him off and then for the first time turned to look at Harry. Their sorrowful, empty eyes met and something happened there. Something ignited, something unknown and untouched before. There was a connection of understanding made in one simple glance. Harry noticed Draco staring into his eyes just as intensely as Harry knew he was staring into the other boy's. They had changed so much since First Year, become men. Harry was surprised to find himself oddly awestruck by this new, grown-up Draco.

"I just… wanted to apologize," Harry whispered after a moment, finally breaking their gaze as he looked solemnly at his nearly empty glass.

"There is no need for it. My Father was not a good man, and he deserved to die," Draco said knowingly." I am the one who should be sorry, for all those-"

"You don't either," Harry stopped him gently, "I don't need to hear anymore apologies. I'm sick of them. We were young and stupid," he said, as if it could excuse the years of torment. And somehow, it could.

After another couple of rounds, Draco turned a small grin to Harry, something that made him slightly shocked. He wasn't frowning. In fact, he almost looked fleetingly happy...for a second. "Glad to have run into you, Harry,"

"Me too," Harry responded, finding it stangely truthful. "Does this mean you're leaving?" he asked, trying hard not to sound too disappointed.

And then Draco laughed. It was a small chuckle, but it was music to Harry's ears.

"I don't want to, but I must. Sleep calls," he grinned some more, "I haven't smiled in awhile. Thank you," he added, standing up from his seat wobbly and putting Galleons on the table to pay for his drink.

"Me too" Harry returned, and then did find his own mouth turning upwards into a small, true smile. Something real. Harry was feeling something real. It was a whole new experience, it seemed. "Could we meet again, then?" he asked.

"You wouldn't mind?" Draco countered quickly, it seemed as though he really was reluctant to leave. The weariness in his eyes held true to his excuse, however, he looked like he was in need of a long rest.

"I think I would enjoy it," Harry admitted shyly, he found himself blushing. He never blushed. Not with Marcus, not with Ginny, not with any other girl or boy. He didn't blush. Nor did he smile. So it was a night of change.

"I need my school supplies. Go shopping with me next Wednesday?"

"Noon?" Harry offered, obviously accepting the invitation, having completely forgotten his promise to go to Diagon Alley with Ron and Hermione.

"Noon," Draco affirmed with a slight nod. And then he did something neither boys expected, he leaned down and left a chaste kiss on Harry's cheek. "Thanks,"

"What for?" Harry found himself asking, stunned still by the small kiss. Draco Malfoy had just kissed him. No, he couldn't think about him like that anymore. Now he was Draco. Just Draco.

"For the silence," he whispered, and then was gone. Harry stared after his retreating figure, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as blood rushed up to his ears. After paying Tom, he was back out on the streets of London, trodding home.

He didn't feel empty that night, not like the nights he left Marcus' house. Harry felt curious, excited, and flustered all at once. He usually didn't feel anything, but now he was feeling more than he thought he could handle. How could a few hours of mostly silence with Draco do that to him? He realized then that it was always the Slytherin boy that could get to him, bate with anger and rage or this new unknown feeling, meshed in with joy. Harry couldn't think on it too much, he didn't want to talk himself out of meeting Draco the following week.

The days suddenly passed slower now, as if they could sense that Harry was anticipating something. There were questions flying through his head, distracting him from memories of the dark past. He was utterly thankful for Draco's presence the previous week, for it had changed him entirely. He wasn't dwelling anymore, and he wasn't part of a routine either. He didn't go to the Weasleys that Wednesday, vyt instead met the familiar blonde in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Harry Potter, seen with a Malfoy in broad daylight?" Draco joked as Harry sauntered uneasily up to him. He couldn't help but admire the boy… he looked so utterly beautiful it was indescribable. How had he not noticed this all their years in school together before now?

"Funny," Harry scoffed playfully, smirking despite himself as Draco grinned back at him. They were roughly the same height, which was good as their eyes met on a level field. Silver and emerald, less dull than they had been seven days ago.

They walked slowly through the streets, Harry ignoring all the looks and shouts, the questions and slurs. Draco, however, wasn't used to an outing like that. Sure people stared at him for a variety of reasons, but never had he seen the public get so riled up as they were now.

"Harry, how can you bloody hell stand this?" Draco hissed to the man beside him, who merely shrugged as his emerald eyes glinted mirthfully for a moment.

"Just ignore it, ignore it all," he advised, for it really was the best course of action.

They silently walked side-by-side, blushing whenever they would brush up against one another accidentally on the busied streets. They went into Flourish and Blotts, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Gringotts- where Draco attended to a few papers quickly- and the Potion Apothecary. It wasn't long before they had all of their school supplies, spelled to shrink inside their pockets. They had barely spoken a word to one another, because they didn't need to. Everything was said in their eyes, the moments that passed quietly between them.

Harry found himself smiling without reason now, as he quickened his pace to pass by the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. Madame Malkin's face was a funny sight when they went inside to receive their new school robes for the year. She obviously wasn't expecting The Harry Potter and The Draco Malfoy to waltz in together, both looking pleased with one another's company.

At the end of a dreary day, the two settled down at the bar once more looking much the same as they had the prior week. They sipped in silence, basking in the joy of sharing it with another person. When they spoke, their voices were gentle and soft, barely above a whisper.

"Today was the closest to fun I have had since..."

"Me too," Draco agreed in understanding. Harry guessed Draco would know what he was talking about- the same would most likely apply for him since that day. Life had been absolute hell since the Final Battle for both boys- Harry knew this from going to school with Draco and by reading the prophet- and without great explanation the pain had lessened inside of him considerably, just because of the other's company.

"I think I like you, Harry," Draco announced.

"Draco, I think I have fallen for you," Harry blushed at his own words, but he knew they were true. Understanding passed between them, and Harry leaned over to the other boy to capture his lips in between his. They kissed gently… softly.

Harry savoured the other's taste and smell, the closeness he had thought he would never feel with another human being. Draco's hand was on Harry's face, Harry's arms were around the boys waist. The Firewhisky burned on their tongues and passion boiled in the pits of their stomach.

This was real Harry had to keep reminding himself. This was really happening, and not only that, but he liked it! He liked it a lot.

After breaking away, both blushed but refused to look anywhere but the others eyes. They couldn't escape that gaze, that heavy truth. When they parted that night, ignoring all of the shocked faces in their direction, they held one another tenderly just outside of The Leaky Cauldron. They kissed the other on the lips once more, each wanting to remember these moments dearly. "Can we meet again?"

"Soon?" Harry returned quickly, looking up just a little at Draco's face.

"Please," Draco added with a nod.

"Tomorrow?" Harry's only answer was another kiss before he was left alone in the summers night. He found himself whistling as he walked home. Harry never whistled.

The days became a blur again, but this time in a good way. All Harry could think about was Draco. He didn't even return his owls that he received, and he barely spent time outside of The Leaky Cauldron. He wanted to stay there, silently drinking beside his new companion. They shared light touches, blushes, smiles and sidelong glances along with their kisses. It was nothing more than that, and both were glad that neither was asking to put a name to it. It didn't need a name, it was far beyond that.

Marcus had left Harry several messages on his phone, but Harry hadn't an ounce of need to call the boy back. He was perfectly content wasting away the last of his summer with Draco. More than content, and more than satisfied. He was happy, and Draco was as well.

It was finally the thirtieth of August and Harry had reluctantly declined Draco the night before to meeting up with him. He had promised his friends weeks ago that he would shop with them in Diagon Alley. As Harry walked through the streets alongside Hermione, Ron and Ginny were in a heated argument about something Ron had walked in on earlier that week. Of course, it was Ginny and Dean fooling around, and Harry didn't have half the mind to listen to the conversation; his thoughts were dwelling on Draco as they had always been lately. Draco. Was he really there? Or was this all some sort of strange dream? But then Harry would catch the top of the blonde boys bobbing head in the crowd, their eyes would meet and then they would look away. That understanding was always present and Harry knew that no, it was not a dream. It was a reaccuring fantasy of some sort, something he had been granted with.

"Mate, aren't you getting any books?" Ron quipped as they stood in Flourish and Blotts, the other teenagers had their arms filled to the brim with their new curriculum textbooks.

"Er… already got them," Harry replied sheepishly.

"When?" Hermione asked curiously, not that any of them really minded. They knew Harry didn't live too faraway, he could have just gotten bored and walked over to do his shopping.

"Last week," Harry shrugged, looking at the other side of the shop. There stood Draco, amongst the two large goons, They were cackling about something inside of a book as the blonde looked terrifyingly bored. Their eyes met once more, Harry felt himself blushing as Draco sent him a private, personal smile, "With Draco," he decided to add.

Ron's books immediately clattered to the floor. He stepped forward in a rage, his hand cupped around the scuff of Harry's neck as the raven-haired boy held no emotion in his features. Harry felt himself being slammed hard up against a wall of the store, people were beginning to turn and look at them as Hermione and Ginny watched with open mouths.

Ron retracted his wand from his pocket, he jabbed it hard into Harry's throat where his other hand still held him threateningly.

"Don't you ever bring up that sodding bastard around me again, Potter!" he bellowed angrily. Harry found himself looking beyond Ron at Draco who was debating whether or not to approach, to intervene.

"And why not?" Harry tested his best friend, shaking his head slightly at Draco to assure him that he had the situation under his control.

"Why not...why not!" Ron screamed, pushing Harry as hard as he could into the wall but unsatisfied when the boy didn't even flinch at the pain. "Because he's a fucking dirty Death Eater who deserves to rot in hell for murdering my Father!" he spit venomously. Gasps sounded through-out the store as Harry now glared icy, emerald daggers at the redhead. Harry harshly shoved his friend back and retrieved his own wand, holding it levelly at Ron now.

"Draco is not his Father," Harry growled. It was true that Lucius Malfoy had been the one to murder Arthur, and not Draco. Ron was just reciprocating that vile hatred of a dead man onto his broken son.

Ron slowly, reluctantly put his wand away. There was no way he could win in a duel against Harry Potter. He muttered something and set storming out of the store onto the street. Harry made to follow; he knew he had to apologize. He couldn't lose Ron over something so simple. Hermione's hand on his chest stopped him,

"Let him be. You know him… just needs to clear his head," Hermione said, Harry looked down at her and nodded grimly. She was always right, afterall.

The three continued their shopping on their own, Hermione and Ginny attempting to rouse Harry out of his silence and into conversation about everything or anything. But he wouldn't have any of it. He wouldn't speak, and he found that at now he just couldn't He didn't want to, because he had nothing to say that wouldn't hurt them. He wanted to be back in the Leaky Cauldron, beside the security of Draco's quiet.

By the end of the day, Ron had cooled down considerably. The two boys bid had farewell to the girls when Ron said,

"I think you and I need a stiff one, mate," he grumbled. He led the way into the Leaky Cauldron, Harry following behind solemnly. It had been a treacherous day for him, attempting to smile and laugh along with his friends but ultimately failing. Ron ordered up a Firewhisky as Harry didn't even glance up at Tom to mumble, "Anything Irish you've got. The strongest," Once they had their drinks Ron began apologizing,

"I'm real sorry about earlier, mate. I shouldn't have exploded at you. But… why Malfoy?" he spoke the name with such venom it made Harry wince.

"He was there, I was there and we both needed school supplies," Harry shrugged, "We barely said a word," he said truthfully. Him and Draco barely ever exchanged words- it was who they had become and it was the best reason why he liked the boy. Ron shifted in his seat taking a small swig of his drink,

"Well, sorry again," he mumbled. The thing was that ever since his Father's death, Ron's hate for the Malfoys had doubled in size at least. It unnerved Harry, and so did the constant useless apologies. What could words do when the actions themselves had already been done?

"Don't worry about it," he assured his best friend.

"So, how have you been these days?" Ron questioned, and for some reason he expected a more elaborate answer than what he got. He should have learned by now.

"Fine. You?" Ron sighed and looked over at his friend concernedly.

"No, Harry, how're you really doing?" he stressed.

"I said. I'm fine," Harry spoke through clenched teeth now, his hand gripping his drink hard. He hated being asked this repeatedly.

"That's not an answer. Look Harry, I'm your best mate. I just want to-"

"What? You want me to tell you how much I don't feel anymore? How apathetic I've become about everything? Or do you want me to tell you how I relive their deaths ever waking second for the rest of my life? Well? Is that what you want?" He hadn't screamed, instead speaking with clear mavolence in his hushed tone. Ron was biting his lip angrily, as if to stop himself from saying something.

"No, Harry. I want you to talk about what happened that night. I want you to tell me the truth, tell me what you did!" He was pleading now. Harry knew Ron was asking to relieve his mind, and to ease his own curiosity, but didn't Ron know that that was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

Harry found that pit of rage resurfacing, but he quickly shoved it back down.

"I told you everything I remember. Honestly," he took a large gulp of his drink.

"It's just that… since that night you've been so...different," Ron said, stating the obvious.

"Wouldn't you be too?" Was all Harry could respond with.

Ron changed the subject after that, obviously sensing he was getting nowhere. After two more rounds, they said an awkward goodbye.

"See you at the Platform in two days," Ron waved from beneath the Leaky Cauldron's mantle place, and then was engulfed in green flames as he Flooed back to The Burrow.

Harry turned back to the bar and found himself smiling. Draco was leaning nonchalantly against it, a small genuine smile warming Harry's heart in return. Draco pushed himself off the bar and swayed over to the man,

"Join me for a walk?" he asked, extending his arm like a true gentleman.

Harry rolled his eyes but accepted. He was steered out of the front door of the pub and into the familiar streets of London.

"I thought Weasley was never going to leave," Draco commented dryly.

"Me neither," Harry conquered as he boldly allowed his hand to slip into Draco's, surprised and overjoyed that it was held tightly in return.

"Ever get the feeling that even though the War is over, it's never going to get any better? That all the pain, loss and memories...that you'll never get used to it?" Draco asked solemnly after awhile of aimless walking. Harry shot him a sidelong frown,

"Yes. That's exactly how I feel," he took a deep breath, "I feel as though the only time that's worth anything is the time spent with you," he sighed, though felt lightened as Draco gripped even tighter around his digits.

"I feel like that as well. All of this Malfoy Estate business means nothing to me. I just do it because I have to. You're the only thing that matters anymore," Draco's words caused Harry to smile sadly, he understood.

"Why?" Harry's question was directed at both of them. Simply why…

Draco thought for a moment, clicking his tongue before sending Harry a trademark Malfoy smirk

"You understand the vast important of silence. You do not need me to talk, to say anything. You understand me even when I don't, and to know all of this all I have to do is look in your eyes," Draco was turning pink on his cheeks now, and his companion couldn't help but find this adorable. "Why?" the blond returned.

"Like you said, you get me. I get you," Harry smiled sweetly, "And you don't ask questions...or at least not the ones everybody else does. And you don't hide how you really feel. You're so honest it's brutal and I love it. I needed something real in my life, and that's where you come in," Harry looked over to see Draco grinning at him.

"Thank you," Draco spoke softly and sincerely.

As they enveloped themselves in silence, they walked through narrow streets. Only drunkards and late night business men were out at this time of night, nearing one in the morning now. Harry suddenly stopped in front of a tall, dull grey apartment building.

"Would you like to come inside?" he offered.

"Inside where, exactly?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow

"I own a flat here," he said, cocking his head towards the building.

Draco pursed his lips before nodding, and proceeded to follow Harry into his flat. Once inside Draco chuckled

"Do you have no vanity?"

"Vanity? Sorry, what's that?" Harry asked seriously, but he couldn't surpress the chuckle at Draco's appalled face as he led him to sit down at the kitchen table. "I'm kidding," he smirked.

"I would bloody well hope so," Draco relaxed now, "Got a spot of tea?"

Harry nodded, still grinning as he began to prepare them tea. He lazily flicked his wand at the kettle always sitting on the stove and it began to boil almost immediately, cups magically came down from the cupboard as tea bags levitated into them.

"Are you still high maintenance as ever, then?"

"Did you honestly expect anything else?"

"From you? No, I guess not," he chortled, setting down their two mugs of tea and slouching in his chair beside the blonde.

"I was watching you from a safe distance in The Leaky Cauldron," Draco admitted after a few minutes. Harry raised his eyebrow but said nothing so Draco continued, "I saw Weasley ask something and then you got upset," it was a statement, not a question. Another reason why Harry was falling deeply for the boy was that he did not pry, but his mere presence made the raven-haired man want to spill everything.

So he did.

"Ron was asking about that night," he need not specify which evening he referred to, "Everybody always wants to know, but don't they bloody understand that I don't remember? And what I do remember isn't an event or anything but a feeling. All I recall is rage, hate, anger and vengeance. I felt no wrong when I was stabbing Tom, and I wasn't guilty either when I had murdered all of those filthy Death Eaters with my goddamn bare hands! Merlin, their blood was everywhere! Your Father's blood was everywhere Draco, and I didn't feel any guilt!" Harry was screaming now, all those pent up feelings boiling over.

Draco was calmly observing him as he took a sip of tea

"You should not have felt guilty. They deserved whatever it was you gave them," he said firmly, giving the broken man reassurance.

"When it was all over," Harry spoke shakily now as tears bubbled in his eyes, "When it was all over, I felt so...inhuman. So evil, sick and twisted. Because for a moment that night, I enjoyed killing them all," Harry's chest heaved heavily as a sob broke free. The tears fell from his emerald orbs as he balled his hands into fists. "I'm so sick and twisted. So fucked up," he mumbled, and as he cried he repeated himself. "So fucked up, so fucked up, so fucked up..."

Harry knew he wasn't just crying- he was wailing. He should have been embarrassed, but…

"Oh, Harry," Draco whispered sadly, pulling Harry from his seat and onto his lap. Harry sobbed into Draco's chest as he curled up on him. Draco stroked his soft, raven hair and kissed his forehead. "You're not fucked up. I promise. I would've done it too," he whispered truthfully.

Somehow amongst Harry's wails, Draco had brought him to his bed. He hushed his queries and kissed his tear stained face repeatedly. Harry hadn't cried since Sirius' death, so this was a year's worth of tears pouring out uncontrollably.

Harry felt relieved as he cried, and he felt entirely safe in Draco's arms. He drifted off to sleep, his head on the blonde's chest as he listened to his heartbeat. Harry heard Draco whisper something before he fell asleep.

"You're so brave, Harry,"

XXXX

Harry awoke in much the same way he had fallen asleep, except for the tears. He felt much better than he had for...ever, really. He was lying in bed being held tightly by a gorgeous man whom he very much adored. Draco was looking blissfully down at him,

"G'morning," he pecked Harry ever so gently.

"I'm so-"

"Don't apologize, you know I hate it. Besides, I'm glad that you trust me enough to lose yourself like that," he said truthfully. "Would you like to join me for breakfast?" he asked suddenly.

Harry smiled brightly. Not only did he finally spend the night with somebody, but now he was going out to breakfast with him too? This must be heaven. Reluctantly they pulled apart from one another.

"You need a shower?" Harry quipped, stretching his arms over his head. His eyes went slightly wide as Draco drew his wand from his pocket, and Harry was frozen. Is he going to hex me?

"Scourgify," the spell cleansed Harry's form; he even felt his teeth being cleaned as he relaxed. "Don't be so nervous," Draco cooed as he cast the spell on himself as well. Harry bumbled into the kitchen and magiced the tea mugs they had last night to clean themselves and be put away. He then turned to face Draco and found himself blushing- he didn't really know what to say. He had just cried in his arms last night, completely released himself, which was something he couldn't even do in Ron's presence.

"Well, are you coming?" Draco raised an eyebrow as he approached Harry, pulling him into his arms.

"Your flat is even less appealing in the daylight," he commented. Harry smiled goofily and nodded, and the two began out of his apartment.

"I don't know this part of London. Never near the Muggle area," Draco explained as Harry nodded and began taking the lead. The streets were busy now, mostly with kids going off to school and their parents to work.

They caught a street trolly down the road to a nice breakfast spot, secluded in a side street away from the traffic. They ordered breakfast together and as it came they ate and drank in silence. It was nice though… they shared small smiles from across the table and Draco even continued to rub his foot up against Harry's, causing him to blush.

"I must be the bringer of poor news," Draco said as they were nearly finished and Harry looked up at him curiously, "Tomorrow we are expected to be at King's Cross Station,"

"Oh," Harry merely responded. He knew what that meant. That meant they couldn't hold hands anymore, and that most certainly meant they couldn't interact really at all anymore. "No more silence," he whispered as an afterthought.

"Maybe...some days..." Draco sighed heavily. Harry knew how he felt- he wished school would just disappear, that they could stay how they were forever. "You know I'm going to need too..."

"I know," Harry nodded slowly, "You have a character to play,"

"I-I wish I didn't, but it will ruin my Mother and I've disappointed her enough already," Draco sighed and reached across the table to grab Harry's hand tightly in his.

"Let's just make the best of today, unless you have other plans?" Harry decided.

"No plans," Draco quickly shook his head. He had wanted to spend their last day of freedom together, savouring one another's company that warmed him so much. Their waitress blushed heavily as she brought them their bill, staring pointedly at their clasped hands. They ignored her as Harry paid with Muggle money and led Draco out of the breakfast shop.

Quietly they made their way through the streets. Their day was filled with nothing besides one another, as Harry brought them to a few of his favourite parks in the area. They observed the Muggles, something Draco didn't do often.

"What's that?" Draco quipped, pointing at a cell-phone a man was holding to his ear.

"It's a cell-phone. Communication device. Let's you talk to anyone, anywhere, anytime,"

"Kind of like the Floo Network?"

"Kind of," Harry shrugged, he didn't really know how to explain Muggle devices to Wizard's. It was so strange to him that they didn't understand their technology.

The day slipped on by too quickly in both of their opinions and they convened at the Leaky Cauldron after having a quiet dinner. Draco was glad to be back near Wizarding folk, even if it was just for one day he had gone about Muggles he wasn't entirely comfortable with it. They sipped the drinks Tom had conjured up for them slowly.

"So ,what are you going to do after this year?" Draco asked Harry.

"I always thought I would make a good Auror,"

"You'd be great," Draco interrupted quickly, but Harry was frowning.

"I don't want that anymore, though. I'm kind of sick of it," he admitted sadly, "I could always apply to be a Professional Seeker but, I don't want the attention anymore either. So I really have no idea what I could do. What about you?"

"I already have my life set out for me. I am a Malfoy, I have my connections I need to establish. The Estate is quite the business to take control of," Draco muttered- he definitely wasn't too happy about where he was going, Harry could tell "There's got to be something else you could do," he urged, wanting the attention to turn away from him.

"Well I always had this idea but...it's stupid, really," Harry shrugged it off, taking another sip of the alcohol that familiarly burned down his throat like acid and fell into his stomach, making his head hazy and memories less prone to surface.

"What is it?" Draco asked softly, his hand on Harry's thigh.

Harry blushed. "I always enjoyed the lessons I took nearing the end of the...nearing the end of it. I liked duelling, and I even got so good that I beat Dumbledore," he chortled at the memory of it as Draco looked shocked but he didn't seem to realize his expression, "I always thought that maybe after Hogwarts I could open up some kind of Duelling School, y'know? An extra-curricular activity people of any age, gender or blood status could take. Physical, magical and tactical lessons," he finished with his cheeks heated, he had never admitted that aspiration to anybody before - barely even himself.

"That sounds wonderful, Harry," Draco squeezed his leg and smiled gently, "I think you'd be a great teacher. And it's something nobody has done before, it sounds like it'd be a hit," he assured.

"Really, you think so?"

"Think so? I know so," Draco leaned over to kiss Harry but the boy slightly backed away, and he knew why and sighed, lowering his head. There were too many people in the Leaky Cauldron that could see them and report it to the Daily Prophet. It was too risky.

They distracted themselves from wanting to liplock by guzzling down their drinks, one after the other. They barely spoke and if it was, it was nonsensical. They exchanged glances most of the night, omniscient looks of mutual feeling. Tom continued refilling their glasses but at the point when he refused to give them more Draco turned on him with a slurred speech

"It's our last night, Tom! Please just give us a couple more! We won't be back to bother you again!"

"At least not for a year," Harry mumbled with a small grin.

Tom regarded the two youths and pursed his lips before nodding slowly in agreement as he replaced them wearily with two more drinks, they were swaying on their barstools by now. "How did you get so convincing?"

"It's called cunning," Draco snipped, "and I am a Slytherin, afterall,"

"Yes, yes you most definitely are a snake," Harry smirked

"Would you like to see just how much of a Slytherin I can be, Harry?" he purred, his hand travelled from Harry's thigh upwards until...

Harry screeched and jumped up from his seat and blushed a deep crimson red, his drink had fallen from his hands and the alcohol was soaking his shirt and the counter top. Tom looked over at him disapprovingly as he smiled apologetically.

"I think you boys have had enough," he ordered sternly. Unfortunately, he wasn't going to budge this time.

"But-but-!" Draco began, but Harry silenced him after he had cleaned himself up with a quick few charms and grabbed hold of the blonde's shoulder, for support if anything.

"Let's go for a walk," he suggested, and some kind of mischievous glint appeared in those silver eyes. They paid their tabs and went back out onto the streets, Draco had his arm tightly around Harry's waist and was pulling him as close to him as possible.

"Draco, don't you think you drank-" Harry began, his own head foggy and speech slurred. But his sentence was cut off as Draco turned and flung Harry harshly up against one of the brick buildings they were wobbling past. His mouth covered Harry's possessively, heatedly, and his tongue forced it's way inside. He pressed his body close up to the other boy's and eagerly kissed him, his arms wrapped tightly around him.

Harry moaned as pleasure erupted somewhere deep inside of him; he kissed fiercely back unawares of how public they were. It was late at night after all, he had no worries. None whatsoever, as Draco flooded his mind with pleasure. He bucked his hips up against the beautiful blonde who groaned and pushed back into him, Harry's hand was lost in Draco's soft platinum hair and the other one was gripping tightly at his hip, urging for more. It all felt so right, so right that neither had to question it. Finally they broke apart gasping for air, their faces flushed and hearts beating in their throats rapidly.

"Would you-"

"I'd love to," Draco cut him off and leaned down to kiss him hungrily once again. When they broke apart this time, Harry was leading Draco wobbling through the streets and towards his flat. It took them a lot longer to get there, considering their drunken nature and Draco repeatedly stopping to lavish Harry with another bout of kisses.

When they finally reached Harry's apartment building, Draco threw him up against the wall again and his hands raked up his shirt, feeling the toned flesh beneath it as his pleasure grew. Harry threw his head back only to have his neck ravished with kisses, nips, sucks and bites. He moaned and closed his eyes, lost in the sensation. This didn't feel like anything him and Marcus did, it felt so much more heavenly and so much more perfect.

Harry yanked Draco down the apartment corridor and towards his own flat, only to throw him up against the door harshly and ravish him in return. He bruised the blonde with kisses, leaving love marks trailing on his neck, his collar bone. Harry's need was heightened by Draco moaning his name in whispers in the hallway, he fumbled for his key and unlocked the flat and the two boys fell into the room, wrapped around one another.

As soon as the door was slammed shut, Harry was up against it again. His legs were spread open as Draco grinded needily up against his pelvis, he was huffing and groaning as Harry licked the nape of his neck repeatedly. Draco made quick to remove Harry's shirt, throwing it forgotten on the floor as Harry did the same to his own cloak and blouse.

As they stumbled together, removing each others clothes between kisses and shared glances of passion, Harry slowly manoeuvred them into the bedroom somehow. He and Draco were down to their boxers now, but neither seemed embarrassed about this or was trying to hide it. Instead, Harry pushed Draco backwards down onto his bed, and the blonde fell and looked like an angel to his secret friend, lover. Harry smiled brightly before jumping on top of the blonde, claiming his mouth once more.

Draco pushed his hips up into Harry, groaning and losing himself in sensations and moments he could never have imagined in his wildest dreams. It was a feverish night as they lost themselves in one another, completely given up all of their pent up emotions and letting go of all the ill feelings they had felt since the Final Battle.

Somewhere in the back of it all, Harry's head was feeling scared, but his heart was feeling free.

Neither spoke or questioned as Draco removed the last bits of their garments, his mouth trailing kisses down Harry's abdomen. Neither wondered whether or not this was wrong because they simply knew. They knew it was right, that it was perfect. Draco was soon pushing his way into Harry's tight entrance, and the man felt blinding pain and pleasure all at once. He writhed beneath the blonde.

Draco made love to Harry, fast and soft all at once. He had been gentle, careful and considerate. They kissed heatedly between thrusts, their hands clawed at each other's bodies, their eyes hungrily raked over one another, and their souls lapped together in beautiful unity. Harry had never felt more complete in his life. He knew from just looking at Draco that he shared the sentiment.

When they were finished, they collapsed beside one another and immediately wove their bodies together. They kissed lightly, their chests heaved heavily as the sweat dried on their bodies. They were lost in each other as they fell into sleep, holding each other as close as they possibly could.

That night, Harry did not have his recurring nightmares of blood curdling screams, nor did he have visions of blood, death and decay. Instead in his dreams, Draco sat across from him silently, smiling with pure love and devotion in those liquid silver eyes. Harry smiled back.


	2. Part Two

**Silence:**

**Part Two**

A/N: Read, review and enjoy! There are still TWO more parts left to this story! Apparantly quite a few people believed it to be a One-Shot. I don't do One-Shots well, hehe. Thank you very much to PeruvianDarkness - my wonderful, fantastical Beta! *Bakes up a batch of nice pixel-cookies and sends them to her*.

Thank you to thrnbrooke, Allie, ruth hammond, littlesprout, Bob Da Peach, HappyWoman, suddon, and Blue-Eyed Chica.

_When we first laid eyes_

_I swore to no compromise_

_'Til I felt my caress on your skin._

_Well, how soon we were betrayed_

_Your sister gave us away_

_And your Father came all unhinged._

_So wait for the stone on your window, your window_

_Wait by the car and we'll go, we'll go._

The sun streaked in the window. It danced upon Harry's dreary face as he slowly blinked, waking up. Draco still lay close to his side, grasping the other loosely in his arms as he slept.

"Accio Wand," Harry whispered, his ebony wand quick to fly from his pants, which were strewn in the entrance way, and into his awaiting palm. "Tempus". The time appeared analog before him, misting in the air before vaporizing. He gently shook Draco awake, the blonde grumbled and snuggled closer to him, their naked bodies glued. "Draco, hun', c'mon," Harry whispered softly, prodding him awake.

"Mmm...Harry," he mumbled sweetly, burying his face in the messy raven locks.

"Draco, I would love to stay in bed all day, but we need to be at King's Cross in three hours and I still have to pack," he explained, kissing the blonde's cheek gently.

The reaction was immediate.

"What? It's eight o'clock already? Harry, tell me this is not happening!" he jumped out of bed, unashamed of his nudity as he ran around the flat collecting his things.

Harry smirked amusedly "Calm down, I'll make us breakfast and pack while take a shower" he said, somehow concluding without a doubt that the Slytherin would need an extensive amount of time to shower. He felt like he really knew him already.

"Thank you!" Draco called as he hurriedly jumped into the shower.

Harry allowed himself a small chuckle as he cast a Scourgify on himself. He got dressed, collected the rest of his things and shoved them inside his messy trunk before clasping the locks tight one more time. He went out to the kitchen and, with a few flicks of his wrist, bacon and eggs were frying on the stove as bread made its way into the toaster. He wrote note of appreciation to the landlord and left it on the table top along with his only key to the flat and the last months rent as well.

Draco emerged from the bathroom looking much more proper than Harry had seen him since last year at school; he was perfectly groomed and smiling smugly.

"I need to grab my things, get changed and check out still," he explained.

"Let's trolly down to the Cauldron and then taxi to King's Cross. It'll make things quicker," Harry said decidedly, handing Draco a fried egg sandwich. He told the dishes to clean themselves as he went to grab his trunk. "Too bad there's Muggles around," he grumbled, heaving up one end of the over-sized load. Draco rolled his eyes and pointed his wand at the trunk, "Relevo," and the trunk automatically became much lighter in Harry's hand. He smiled thankfully as Draco led the way out of the apartment now.

As they sat on the trolly, Draco was nuzzled deep into Harry's side as they munched down on their sandwiches as quickly as possible.

"I don't wanna go back," Harry grumbled, having finished eating now.

"We will find our time," Draco said, and he turned to Harry and kissed him gently on the lips causing quite a few sneers from the surrounding Muggles.

"Promise?" Harry pleaded, sounding so pathetic but he didn't care. He had found solace, and now it was going to be taken away, just because certain people in this world wouldn't be able to accept them. At least not yet.

"Promise"

"And I promise that one day, we'll be together for real," Harry responded firmly as Draco nodded and they kissed again. The rest of their bus ride was silent and they staggered their entrances into the Leaky Cauldron. Draco immediately fled to his room to pack in a hurry.

Harry sat sadly waiting at the bar, wishing that Tom served drinks before noon hour- he knew he wouldn't be able to have a Firewhiskey until a Hogsmeade trip. This didn't unnerve him as much as having to reluctantly part from Draco.

"All packed and checked out. What's the time?" Draco appeared at his side, ignoring the strange glances they got as he slipped his arm around Harry's shoulders after checking there was no-one watching.

"Ten past nine. Take long enough?" Harry teased, cleverly ducking a swat from the other boy. "C'mon, you tosser, taxi's not waiting forever," he frowned, wishing it would.

They rode to King's Cross in silence, savouring their last moments in the backseat of the car with their luggage bouncing heavily in the trunk. Harry had never felt so right with his hand in Draco's, their bodies pressed tight beside one another. They were still groggy with hangovers and all of their energy had been sucked out by last nights session. Neither spoke of it because they both understood that the wondrous experience and expression of deep emotion could not be put into words.

The English language was insufficient like that.

As they rolled to a halt just after ten, they reluctantly let go of each others hand and stared longingly. Harry paid the driver and before they got out of the car, shared one last kiss with Draco. It was sweet and comforting, for both knew they would need all the comfort they could get in the coming months of hardships.

Quietly, they removed their trunks from the vehicle and stared into the entrance of the train station. With a deep breath, Draco turned to his companion.

"See you later...Potter" with a pained expression before leading the way inside without a glance backwards.

Harry felt momentarily at a loss as he observed Draco's retreating figure. He waited in the busy streets for a few minutes before following in after him.

He passed numerous Hogwarts students saying farewell to their parents, including Neville Longbottom, who shot him a wide grin which he tappered away from. As he disappeared through the magical gateway into Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, he was faced with too familiar of territory. The black and red gleaming train with a hoard of students piling on, tears on their parents faces. Whispers, fingers and suspicious dark looks followed Harry, which he ignored as he loaded his things, then himself, onto the Hogwarts Express. He chose the same compartment he and his friends sat in every year at the very back, and changed into his robes as he patiently waited.

'I would do anything not to go this year. Half of these people think I'm a hero and the other half think I'm a raving, murderous lunatic. Modred, I am that aren't I? I already hate Seventh Year and I'm not even at Hogwarts yet,' he thought bitterly to himself.

It was eleven and by the sounds of it the train was full. Hermione and Ron were late as per usual, scurrying into the compartment just as the train began to leave the Station.

"Mum was waiting to say goodbye to you," Ron immediately scolded as the two sat across from the shrugging boy. "And how come you didn't come see us again? She was worried," he added, only receiving another shrug accompanied with a raised, uninterested eyebrow.

"Harry...what are those? On your neck." Hermione asked, causing the brunette to blush but say nothing. They're badgering me already…

"Did Marcus give you those?" Ron snapped, still irate about his friend dismissing his Mother with a mere shrug. Harry glared over at him

"So what if he did?" he lied, deciding the Muggle bartender to be a good cover story for the love bites. He wondered what the prim and proper Draco Malfoy was going to say about his own marks, left bruised into that perfect porcelain skin. Ron glowered and roughly took Hermione's hand.

"I think it's time we aughta be at the Prefect's meeting by now," he ordered her. As she was being dragged out of the compartment, she shot Harry a sympathetic smile, which he turned away from. He was so weary of that girl's pity.

Harry attempted to block out the happy laughter and excitement, but it was entirely too difficult as it flooded the stream train corridor. Dread began washing over him in bountiful tidal waves, and he was pleading inwardly that the train would derail somewhere along its journey. A few recognizable voices drifted to him, catching his attention.

"I heard he was checked into St. Mungo's the whole holiday" prompted a female.

"You really think that's true?" responded a weary girl.

"Of course it's true!" hissed a strong, deep male voice. "Don't you remember him last year?"

"Totally bonkers," muttered another.

"Who couldn't be after all that. If people kept dropping dead around me..."

All of the blood began to rush to Harry's head, his stomach churned as his knuckles turned white, his face screwed up in anger.

"Who knows what really happened that night-"

"Whatever did, we know for sure he killed seven people! Seven! He's lucky Malfoy hasn't murdered him yet," there were a few grunts of agreement as Harry smirked at the irony, though it was quickly replaced with a scowl. One of the females spoke again, her voice laced with disgust.

"He didn't even use the Killing Curse. He killed them with his bare hands!"

"How can someone be so fucked up?"

"Merlin, and we have to sleep next to the bloody maniac!"

Harry took a deep shuddering breath before storming out of his own compartment. He slowed his pace and leaned against the doorframe of the other, open compartment. "Do you want to know what I really did this summer?" he drawled icily.

Lavender Brown, Pavarti Patil, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan all turned slack-jawed to face him, heat rising to their cheeks. He had retrieved his wand from his pocket and was idly fingering it in his hand for them to see, his eyes glaring daggers at the muted group.

"You wankers better learn to keep your damn traps shut if you know what's good for you," he spat.

"Or what? You'll kill us too?" Seamus bravely, though rather stupidly, retorted.

Harry's piercing gaze directed fully at him, "If you get in my way," he darkly growled. This was not the response the four Gryffindors expected from The-Boy-Who-Lived, as the girls gasped lightly and the boys eyes widened.

For some idiotic reason, Seamus didn't know when to stop as he stood to face Harry. "Murder us just like you did Cedric and-"

Harry rolled his eyes and chortled lowly at this, ignoring the pang of pain that hit him somewhere deep inside. "-And Black," Seamus finished.

It happened quickly, as Harry advanced on the other boy, throwing his back harshly up against the window pane as his wand bruised into his throat. Seamus looked with wild, fearful eyes at his dorm mate of seven years as the atmosphere suddenly darkened.

"Don't you dare even to speak his name," Harry snarled, green eyes flaring as the other students were numbed.

"Expel-" A voice from the doorway began saying but Harry reflexively threw up a Protego shield.

"Give me one good reason not to hex this arsehole into oblivion," Harry growled.

"Because, Potter, I will have you serving detention for a week...with Snape," Malfoy drawled, he had his arms crossed in the doorway and his Prefect's bade gleaming, the trademark Malfoy smirk set in place. Harry steadied himself and glanced once more at Seamus before releasing him. He whirled on his heel to come face-to-face with the blonde, Harry had to bite his lip to stop himself from automatically smiling at his presence. They peered into one another's eyes with that same emotion and understanding passing between them. Draco was pursing his lips into a thin line, holding his own smile back. To anybody else, it looked like they were moments away from another infamous fight of theirs.

Seamus was raising his wand to curse at Harry's back, but with his trained senses and a quick flick of his wrist, the Irish boy's wand was flying into the brunette's awaiting palm. He didn't even look back at Seamus as he threw it out into the train corridor, Harry was concentrating on Draco's liquid silver eyes. They finally looked away and with that Harry moved around Draco, brushing up against him lightly, and went back into his own compartment without another word. He left behind four very confused Gryffindors.

The rest of the trip to Hogwarts was highly uneventful, other than Harry attempting to surpress his smirk as Hermione giddily speculated with Ginny who gave Draco his hickies. As Ron re-entered the compartment from doing Prefect rounds, the conversation was abruptly stopped. Any talk of the Malfoy's around him was a rotten idea.

Harry did no speak the whole train ride, and his friends did not pry for once - they were too excited with returning to Hogwarts to really notice. Ron seemed to have forgotten why he was angry at his best friend, which was another plus. But the largest downfall was about to happen as the train came to a stop at Hogsmeade Station.

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Luna Lovegood and Harry all clambered onto one carriage together. Harry swallowed hard as he couldn't keep his deep emerald eyes off of the Thestrals that pulled it. Every time he saw them, all he could think about was Death. He was glad Luna seemed drawn to stare at them as well, considering how she could see them too. Ever since the Final Battle, so could Ron and Hermione, but they tried their best to keep their attentions focused elsewhere.

Harry had a tough time ignoring the dread, now rushing heavily through him as the Castle came into view. The carriages stopped and they all got off, starting towards Hogwarts. Harry stared hard at the ground, his hands in his pockets, and he jumped nearly out of his skin as he felt somebody knock into him while passing from behind. He stopped to steady himself as his eyes met Draco's and saw the platinum haired youth smirking.

"Watch where you're going, Scarhead," he hissed with a raised eyebrow and then continued on towards the Castle, Crabbe and Goyle in tow. Ginny laced her arm around Harry and began pulling him to start walking again.

"C'mon, it's just Malfoy," she muttered as he snaked his way out of her grip. Harry wondered why Draco felt the need to run into him, but as he shoved his hands back into his cloak pockets he found something that made a warm smile grace his features. There was a scrap of parchment there that hadn't been before. Making sure nobody's eyes were on him, he took it out and read Draco's script.

'Charms classroom, Third Floor, After curfew,' was all it said, but Harry didn't need any more words than that to understand. Suddenly, he was much more light-hearted as they entered the magnificent castle and walked into The Great Hall.

Harry, Ron and Hermione took their usual spots, Ginny sitting beside Harry as well. Nobody else seemed to want to go near them, so they all scooted down the table as far away as possible. Hermione was frowning at this, but Harry didn't seem to notice.

"Can you believe it? Neville and Luna?" Ginny whispered with a grin.

"What?" Harry asked, his eyebrows raised. She couldn't be implying what he thought she was implying...could she?

"They got together in July, on Neville's birthday actually," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

"Really?" the ebony haired boy asked again, his faced screwed up. Neville was the last person in their House he could imagine dating. And Luna was probably the last girl he could imagine him with. Next to that pug Pansy Parkinson.

"Uh...yeah, didn't you see them holding hands mate?" Ron questioned as Harry slowly shook his head.

Their conversation was ended as Professor Dumbledore stood at the High Table. He had his light blue robes on and his eyes were twinkling beneath his half-moon glasses. He spoke after quickly scanning the students of Hogwarts.

"Please, let us settle down and welcome our new First Years," he announced as the Great Hall doors swung open once more and Professor McGonagall led in a new troop of students.

The Welcome Feast was a right bore as Harry blocked out everyone's conversations of what they were up to all summer long. He sat, pushing his food about his plate as his mind wandered into nothingness.

Seamus and Dean were muttering lowly beneath their breaths, looking up every so often to glare at Harry. Whenever he turned his attention towards them, however, they cowered and quickly looked away. Everybody Harry attempted to look at in the eye would refuse to do so and nervously blushed.

All except for Draco. Harry looked across the Great Hall and immediately Draco caught his eye. The blonde's mouth upturned into a small smile, and Harry couldn't help but smile back.

He noticed Ron and Hermione staring at him in awe of his sudden mood change.

"Harry..." Ron began, but Harry just turned to him, his cold mask slipped back into place.

"Yes, Ron?" he asked in a flat tone.

"Why-ahem!" Ron was elbowed hard in the ribs by his girlfriend who was looking sadly at Harry who returned to concentrating on pushing around his meal. "Nothing," the redhead mumbled, keeping his inquiries until further investigation.

Harry was having a wretched time already. He wanted to be on the other side of The Great Hall, sitting beside Draco and not Ginny who was babbling on already. He didn't like being around his constantly questioning friends, although he appreciated their concern it always got to be too much.

Thankfully, it wasn't long before Harry could find silence unpacking in his dormitory. He didn't have much to unpack. Usually, he would place a picture of his parents on his bedside, but this year he did not; there was no need for him to be more thoroughly reminded of death.

He sat idly on his bed, glancing at the clock too often so that he was nearly convinced time froze in the Gryffindor Tower. Finally, the other dorm mates clambered in as curfew came around. Dean and Seamus glared at him haughtily but kept quiet. Neville, however, approached Harry with a small smile.

"You up for a game of Exploding Snap before bed?" he asked tentatively.

Harry looked up at him with a straight face, "Sorry Nev, I promised somebody I'd met them," he felt no need to lie. Neville frowned, though didn't seem too disappointed.

"Oh, alright then," he shrugged and walked off to get ready to retire. Before Ron came in from his Prefect duties, Harry gathered his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map, heading down to the Common Room.

"Where are you off to?" Hermione asked inquiringly, she was sending First Years to their dorms and there wasn't many people left dawdling.

"Out" Harry shrugged, averting his gaze from his friend to the un-activated map in his hand.

The bushy-haired girl crossed her arms, "Where to?" Harry then looked up at her and held a steady gaze.

"To meet Malfoy," he said truthfully. He knew Hermione well enough to know she wouldn't do something as moronic as revealing that bit of information to Ron. She observed him, in thought.

"Whatever business you have with him should end. It's just not safe, Harry," she scolded, though for once she didn't question which surprised him.

He strode towards the portrait hole and without looking back he muttered, "I can't," leaving the Head Girl in perplexed thought.

It was a long walk down to the Entrance Hall as he checked the map for Filch, Peeves and Prefects the whole way, but it was all worthwhile as he finally set his eyes on Draco. The platinum youth was leaning up against the bottom of the stairs, smoothing out his hair absently. As soon as Harry removed his Cloak and they saw on another, their eyes lit up and small smiles perked up on their usually solemn features.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Draco wrapped his arms around Harry who automatically relaxed at the touch. "Merlin, it's only been a day-"

"Not even"

"-and it feels like weeks," Harry held his lover tighter. And to think they were just making love the night before. Draco slipped his hand into Harry's and gave him a small smile.

"Come, we do not want Filch to be barging in on us," he drawled, leading the way down and into the Slytherin dungeons. It was colder the further they walked in, and Harry wondered idly where he was being led though he left his queries to himself.

As Harry began to shiver from the cold, Draco finally pulled them into a small, dark notch in one of the many dungeon corridors and yanked Harry fiercely to him. Their lips met in a crash of passion- Harry went limp in his arms and allowed his entire being to be devoured by the man. When they finally pulled away, breathing heavily and with flushed cheeks, Harry was frowning.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked gently, caressing the boy's face with the back of his hand.

Harry sighed. "I want to run away," he admitted quietly. He was glad he didn't have to describe, because he knew by the look in Draco's eyes that he knew. He knew it was because of all the hassle of the people around them, the constant masks they had to wear, or the constant questions they'd have to avoid answering. They were both so sick of all the looks of awe or of hatred they received just because of what was put in the newspapers about them.

"Me too. And you know I would if you asked me to," Draco responded surely, for there was nothing else he would prefer more than to be with Harry and only Harry. It would be a blissful day when that happened.

"I know," Harry nodded slowly, "I would do the same. But-"

"We can't. Not yet, at least," he finished for him, and they looked at one another and they knew all over again. They knew the pain each other was feeling, just for being within those walls of Hogwarts reminding them daily of the events of their most hated past.

They stood silently for the rest of the evening, holding one another and sharing light kisses and passionate glances. When Harry finally returned to the Hogwarts Tower, his cheeks and lips were plump and flushed and his hair was roused from Draco's hands riffling their way through it. He was faced automatically with Hermione, who was sitting on the couch reviewing Transfiguration for their first lesson tomorrow.

As she stood, she gave her friend the once over and frowned heavily, he looked anywhere but at her.

"Harry, have you been with Malfoy all night?" she asked.

"Yes"

"Harry...what is going on between you? Ginny told me what happened on the train today between you and Seamus, and most importantly how strange you and Malfoy acted to each other," she explained, her brow was furrowed just like when she was trying to figure out an advanced Ancient Runes assignment.

"How would she know?" Harry scowled, the particular redhead hadn't even been in that compartment at the time.

"Dean told her," Hermione shrugged, being it common knowledge that the two had been dating awhile now.

"We should get to bed, 'Mione, it's nearly one in the morning," Harry said through gritted teeth, he didn't like these confrontations. All he wanted to do was crawl into his four-poster bed and let himself slip into dreamland, even if that meant dealing with his nightmares.

He started to walk up the stairs but halfway Hermione's tentative voice stopped him, "Was it Malfoy that gave you all those...marks?"

Harry paused only slightly on the stairs before continuing, "Goodnight, Hermione," he said with finality, refusing to answer the question. Harry knew Hermione was smart enough to know the answer.

XXXX

Harry's mood was considerably heightened in the next few days when he remembered that he was now in Seventh Year NEWT courses, which meant that they were no longer separated by Houses in their lessons. This also meant that Draco and him had plenty of classes together, all except for Arithmancy and Muggle Studies. Even if Harry couldn't openly sit next to Draco, or say hello to him, at least they could seat somewhat close to one another and exchange glances.

These glances didn't go unnoticed by Hermione, though Harry doubted she could ever decipher the emotion in them. They both exchanged everything through their eyes, but kept their faces just as cold and blank as usual. Harry scolded himself for the times when he would blush or smile, ruining the façade.

Even with the Slytherin sitting a few rows ahead of him, however, Potions was still a travesty, especially the Tuesday of the second week of term.

The Seventh Years were brewing a batch of Drought of Half-Death. Harry was in a particularly foul mood that day, due to his nightmares the night before. They had come back in full force- rather vividly- and he couldn't shake the image of those lifeless seven faces. Every time he blinked, they were there, lying bloody and empty before him. As he sat on the isle side of the desk, beside Ron, he very distractedly prepared the ingredients for the Drought, before beginning to make the potion.

Harry leaned on one hand. He knew he looked awful- there were large bags under his eyes and he couldn't even be bothered to exchange his usual glances with Draco. Not that he didn't notice Hermione's concerned face, or the emotion in Draco's eyes, which was even more so.

"Remember," Professor Snape's drawl sounded as he stalked around the room observing the students, "This is a highly dangerous Potion. Do not attempt to ingest it unless your life has really become that worthless. Two drops of the drought in combination with any liquid or solid food will result in a slow-working death. If you do not receive the remedy, which is highly unsafe and difficult to brew, within twenty-four hours you would be lucky to last three days," he snarled.

Many of the students gulped at this, making sure to pay extra attention. All except for Harry, who didn't even hear his Professor speak.

"Potter!" Snape snapped angrily as he came upon his cauldron, peering inside, "What is this absolute monstrosity?"

"Draught of Half-Death," Harry shrugged, still leaning nonchalantly on his hand.

"This wouldn't kill even a fly" Snape spat before dipping a ladle into the drought and taking a sip as all the students looked wide-eyed. The Professor's face turned into a larger scowl after he finished swallowing the contents of the spoon. "This is a pathetic excuse for a Potion, Potter; ten points from Gryffindor for actually believing you could pass NEWT-level Potions". All the Gryffindors in the classroom groaned, but Harry still remained in the same position.

"It's not like I need the potion," he mumbled.

"Excuse me? If you think you're too good for this, that your scar will be the only thing to get you to pass this course, you can-"

"I don't need it, sir," Harry growled heatedly, his tone laced with anger that even the Potions Master was taken aback by it, "Because I can off people well enough on my own, don't you think?" The students gasped at what he said and whispers vibrated through the classroom as Snape flushed and crossed his arms.

Through tight lips the Head of Slytherin spoke, "Another ten points from Gryffindor and detention with me tomorrow evening, seven o'clock," he spat and then spun on his heel, "Back to work!" he yelled, and everybody quickly resumed besides Harry who just gave up and sat hollowly the rest of the period.

It apparently wasn't Harry's day as he continued to Advanced Transfiguration that afternoon after Potions. Students were still in the hall and he was earlier than most, Hermione and Ron had quickly run to the Common Room as they hadn't brought their textbooks along with them to their earlier lesson. In the corridor just outside of Professor McGonagall's classroom, Harry brushed right into none other than Seamus Finnigan.

Seamus turned to him in a fury- it was the first time they had had contact of any sort since the train. Harry merely looked him down, but Seamus was glaring vividly at him.

Ginny quietly held Dean's hand and was standing off to the side. Many students stood watching enthrallingly as they had heard about the incident in a variety of forms. They watched as Seamus clenched his hands into fists and snarled.

"Fuck you, Potter! You think that just because you're The-Boy-Who-Lived you can get away with anything!"

"Is that so?" Harry calmly raised his eyebrow in a way fit for a Malfoy. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You got away with murder, didn't you?" his words provoked a hush over the crowd as all eyes turned to Harry to see his reaction but all that happened was his eyes darkened. He said nothing and pursed his lips. Amidst the students, Draco watched with protectiveness, hand on his wand, ready to jump in if need be.

"What, got nothing to say Pothead?" Dean growled from the sidelines. Ginny glowered at him but said nothing. She wouldn't stand up for Harry; not in front of all these people who full heartedly agreed with Seamus' accusations and viewpoints.

"You know, Dean, I wonder how long it'll take him to do us all in like he did Cedric," he smirked as he saw anger flash across Harry's face vividly. The number of spectators was growing now. Even Ron and Hermione were there, but they had the right mind not to intervene.

"I didn't kill him," Harry muttered beneath his breath, but it went unnoticed.

"I een heard you did in that raving lunatic, Sirius Black. Takes one to murder one, they say," Seamus was grinning mirthfully, but the gasps and the look on Harry's face meant that he went too far.

Hermione, Ron, and surprisingly enough to everybody watching, Malfoy, all leapt forward to stop Harry, but they weren't quick enough. Harry's fist slammed hard Harry's guttural growl. Seamus fell back onto the floor hard, taking Harry with him but, ignoring the blood coming from his mouth, he flipped the boy onto his back.

Before Seamus could land his first hit, Draco was yanking him off of Harry.

"Haven't you any self preservation, Potter?" Draco questioned coolly as he released Seamus, his face already blooming a bruise.

"Don't you ever fucking say his name again, Finnigan! You're not goddamn worthy of it!" Harry screamed with his finger pointed at Seamus, the boy's eyes wide.

"Mr Potter, language!" Professor McGonagall shrilly shrieked from behind, coming quickly through the crowd of students with her hands on her hips. "Fifty points from Gryffindor for this display of...of...unjust, rude behaviour!" she said, eyeing both boys for injury. Harry was nursing his hand slightly- he had cut it along the knuckles when it had impacted with Seamus' face.

"Miss Granger and Mr..." her eyes scanned over Draco, but she obviously did not trust him to attend to two Gryffindors kindly, "...and Mr Weasley, please escort your classmates to the Hospital Wing at once. And if I hear of any nonsense whatsoever, you will both be serving detention for the rest of the term! You can forget about passing your NEWTs!" she barked. Hermione quickly skirted Seamus off, swearing beneath his breath, as Ron and Harry trailed not far behind.

"That was a wicked right hook, mate! How's the hand?" Ron was grinning ear-to-ear.

"Fine," Harry grumbled, glaring icily at Seamus' back. He was glad Ron didn't seem to mind about this spat, but he doubted Hermione would be any sort of nice in reaction to this.

Madame Pomfrey was tending to a couple of Third Year Hufflepuffs as Seamus sat on a chair at the far end of the room, Scourgifying his bloodied uniform shirt with a foul look on his face. Harry harrumphed in his direction but steered-clear of him. He was led to sit on the edge of the bed by Ron, who quickly sat beside him.

"Got us out of Transfiguration at least," the redhead smirked.

"Ronald!" Hermione smacked his arm, having joined them now with a stern look on her face, "Do you not remember how important lessons are this year? Harry, why did you do that? What did you to do Seamus to make him so angry?"

"Nothin'" Harry shrugged. Hermione glared at him

"Nothing? Harry, you broke your hand on his face!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Ron mumbled under his grin, and shied away from the glare he received from his girlfriend.

"Don't tell me you don't think that bastard deserved it!" Harry bellowed at her, but soon calmed himself down again, slipping his cool mask into place.

"Mr Potter! Please, keep your voice at acceptable levels in my Infirmary!" Madame Pomfrey called from across the room, glaring at the three Gryffindors who muttered apologies at her.

The Mediwtich finished with the Hufflepuffs and first went to assess and correct Seamus, who sat glaring daggers at Harry the whole time. The verdict was that his nose was broken and his cheekbone fractured. For some reason, Harry felt triumphant with this but Hermione's mood turned even more sour. She fixed him up and had him on his way with a Pain Reliever Potion, and then she came scowling over to Harry.

"Lets see your hand, shall we Mister Potter?" she grumbled, and harshly jabbed her wand into Harry's throbbing hand that was now extended. "It seems as though you are in here more than in your classes. Let's not make it a habit again this year, shall we?"

"I'll try," Harry shrugged. It wasn't fault he kept getting thrown into situations that usually always ended him up lying on his back in the Hospital Wing.

"And fighting, oh dears, the youth of today is so aggressive..." she was mumbling to herself now, in between Healing spells that warmed and twitched in Harry's hand. In a quick ten minutes, it looked right back to normal but there was a numbing sensation in his fingers. She handed him a Pain Reliever and asked him to stay until the sensation went away. She then ran off to attend a Sixth Year Ravenclaw, groaning on a Hospital Bed from the stomach flu.

"Harry, you can't do something like that! What happens if you end up getting expelled?" Hermione asked, more worried now than angry as she stood in front of the two boys with her arms crossed.

"I really don't care, 'Mione. That prick deserved what he got," Harry grumbled tersely, Ron nodded in agreement beside him.

"No offence, but could you just lay off the fella? I mean, Seamus has been quite the git this year," he added in for Harry's defence.

Hermione didn't want to protest further, she could tell Harry was still quite upset and knowing how fragile the boy's emotions were, she didn't want to push it too far. "Well, just don't get hurt, okay?" she finally said, plopping down on the bed opposite them. It was no use to return to class now, with it nearly being over.

"Mate, you should'a seen the look on Finnigan's face though! I don't think he expected that from you!" Ron was grinning again, just like most of any other guys he enjoyed watcing a good fight, even if it was short and rather one-sided.

Hermione was frowning disapprovingly at her boyfriend but she was distracted as somebody strode in through the Hospital Wing doors. Draco strutted in, his silver eyes automatically scanning the entire room until they fell on Harry's back. They stayed there as he continued to walk down the isle until he could see the front of his face.

Harry looked up from his lap and his eyes met with Draco's for a moment, the blonde inclined his head and Harry suppressed a small smile and nodded in return instead. Draco quickly averted his glance and continued down until he found Madame Pomfrey.

"What's that prat doing here?" Ron growled, his fists automatically clenching.

"Dunno" Harry shrugged, still trying not to give Draco the small smile at the corner of his lips. Hermione was eyeing him suspiciously but she didn't say a thing. Draco ignored them, and proceeded to ask Madame Pomfrey for a Headache Relieving potion, but neither Harry nor Hermione, apparently, were fooled.

"You alright to go yet, mate? We've got Care of Magical Creatures in ten," Ron said, looking pointedly at his watch. None of them really ever wanted to miss Hagrid's lessons, especially since they were much more advanced now.

"Sure," Harry said, sliding off the bed and quickly leading the way out of the Hospital Wing with a slight glance in Draco's direction first.

Care of Magical Creature's had become a much more serious class than the previous years, as they only did practical lessons involved with creatures once a week, and twice a week instead they would convene in a First Floor classroom. It was one of those days, which Harry was grateful for, he didn't feel like rummaging around the Forbidden Forest with Blast-Ended Skrewts or something today.

They walked silently down to class, Hermione lost in her own thoughtful world, and settled into their regular seats at the front of the class.

"Heya, Hagrid!" Ron grinned up at their large, half-giant teacher. He smiled beamingly down at them,

"Hey ther' yeh three. Heard 'bout what happ'ned with Finnigan out ther'… yeh're alright then, Harry?" Hagrid asked concernedly.

"M'fine," Harry shrugged again, his hand felt and looked all back to normal, and the temporary pain was well worth it in his and Ron's opinion.

"Alright, alright settle down, then!" Hagrid chortled as the rest of the students filed into the classroom, all taking their usual seats and flipping open their notebooks. "Today we'll be finishin' up our lesson 'bout Human-Like Creatures. Can anyone name the ones we haven't done?" Hagrid smiled brightly at Hermione whose hand automatically raised and inclined his head towards her.

"I believe we have covered everything up to Vampires and Veela's, sir," she said.

"Yer right. Lets first start off with Veela," Hagrid began, the students immediately took out a piece of parchment and a quill, titling a page for the day's notes, "Now, who in this room is most likely to be a Veela? Not saying ye are one, but can anybody tell me the most likely student who shares the characteristics of these creatures?"

Harry didn't even wait to be called on and without putting up his hand he spoke clearly for everybody to hear.

"Draco" with a slight nudge of his head to the back of the class where the blonde was sitting with his mask firmly in place. He didn't show any reaction to being referred to as a likely Veela candidate. Ron didn't look too happy beside his best friend.

"And why's that, Harry?" Hagrid asked, in a surprised voice. Harry knew he never volunteered information usually.

"Because he has a lot of the same physical traits Veela have. Lightly pigmented skin, pale hair, tall, lean, silver eyes and he's very beautiful, sir," Harry finished, not really questioning the way he had just described Draco Malfoy in front of an entire classroom of Seventh Year students. He was, after all, only speaking the truth and answering their Professor's question.

The rest of the class was looking surprisingly between Harry and a lightly blushing Draco, who turned his attention completely down to his blank piece of parchment where he began nonsensically doodling in attempts to ignore the blatant stares. Ron, however, had glowing red cheeks and seemed to be trying extremely hard to surpress the want to snap at that very point in time.

"And what about Mr Malfoy isn't like a Veela?"

"Well, sir, Veela have a natural magical charm about them that makes everybody around them feel attracted to them. It's how they attract their mate. Not everybody is falling all over Malfoy," Harry shrugged again.

"Er, right yeh are, Harry. Five points to Gryffindor...now ,the Veela..." Hagrid continued on with his lesson as if nothing had happened, as if it wasn't strange to see Harry Potter openly complimenting the Slytherin Prince as he just had. It seemed as though nearly all of the students had a hard time concentrating that period.

After class Ron was still fuming as they trudged up to the Common Room, seeing as they had a free period before dinner. Harry didn't even bother questioning why, nor did he attempt to defend his words in Care of Magical Creature's. He felt no need to- after all he was just truthfully answering Hagrid's questions.

As soon as they had reached the Common Room, Ron threw his best friend up against the closed portrait hole ignoring the Fat Lady's protests from the other side of it. He retrieved his wand and glowered at Harry, jabbing the wood into his neck. Harry looked calmly, almost boringly, at his friend.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" he screamed angrily.

Harry shrugged, "Not too sure what you're on about"

"Malfoy pulling Seamus off of you earlier, then coming into the Hospital Wing pretending to have a headache, and then you calling him beautiful in class! What the bloody fuck do you think you're doing? Do you fancy him or something?" Ron growled, pushing his wand harder into Harry, who seemed unaffected.

"If you haven't noticed, Malfoy's a Prefect and therefore was doing his duty. And I could care less why he came into the Hospital Wing earlier. During class...Ron, even you have to admit that Malfoy is not a bad-looking fellow," Harry bravely said, and before Ron could retort angrily he continued, "You don't want me to break my fist again so soon, do you?" he said it with such calm that it was almost scary.

Ron knew when he was bested- against Harry anybody always was. The boy was much stronger than he was, and he could also send a hex flying his way without even lifting his wand. Ron snarled and released Harry harshly before taking a few steps back and pointing a wavering finger at him.

"Whatever you're playing at with Malfoy it better stop! That fucking bastard helped murder my Father, Harry!" Ron snapped and then strode heatedly out of the portrait hole, Harry didn't even look after him and no emotion flickered across his features. He ignored Hermione's inquiring look and made his way up to his dormitory to catch a short nap before dinner time.

During dinner that evening, Ron failed to make an appearance. Hermione and Harry both knew he needed time to cool himself down and then he would act as though nothing happened tomorrow, as he usually did. Hermione paid closer attention than ever during that meal, and Harry made sure to take that into account as he snuck glances over at Draco who was usually always looking back at him, a small smile in those silver eyes.

"Can I talk to you after dinner tonight, Harry?" Hermione asked sweetly nearing the end of the meal.

Harry frowned over at her, "I'm busy," he merely said, having already made plans to meet Draco down in that same dark, lonely dungeons corridor. The Slytherin promised nobody ever went there and it had become their official meeting spot.

"After you're...done with Malfoy, then?" Hermione asked knowingly, Harry found himself blushing but he merely nodded.

Leave it up to Hermione to have figured out the obvious. Harry didn't quite mind, for he didn't feel the need to keep the relationship secret, except for the entire Ron situation.

Dinner seemed to last forever for Harry, but finally it was time to head to the dungeons. He went there with haste, pushing through a throng of students until he was enveloped in cold and silence. Draco entered not long after, and they immediately embraced upon seeing they were finally alone. Harry held tight to his lover, savouring the feeling of closeness between them.

"So you think I'm beautiful?" Draco smirked, pulling back slightly and looking down at Harry whose gaze didn't waver.

"The most beautiful person I have ever seen," Harry spoke clearly and strongly, with such confidence that Draco found himself blushing. Harry broke out into a large smile, and tilted his head upwards and captured Draco's lips. They kissed feverishly, pulling into one another as close as they could as their tongues danced and their lips sucked on one another's.

Draco groaned into Harry's mouth and pushed his growing erection up against the boy's upper thigh, forcing Harry's back onto the wall as their lips never left each others.

"Draco...I want you, I want to be inside of you," Harry whispered breathily as he pulled away from the blonde's mouth.

"You can have me whenever you want, Harry. I'm all yours," Draco spoke truthfully, having never been so sure of something before in his life. He felt so completely and worry-free with Harry, he felt at one with himself and those around him, and he felt more happiness than he had accumulatively in his entire life.

"C'mon, I know a place we can go," Harry said, quickly detaching himself from Draco feeling his need build for the other boy by the moment. All they had done for the past two weeks was kiss in the dungeon corridor and hold onto one another, and Harry suddenly found himself needing much more than that.

Harry led them to the Room of Requirement- they walked quickly side-by-side ignoring the students that looked surprisingly at them as they passed. As soon as they were inside the magical room, Harry threw Draco up against the wall and absolutely ravished him. He needed to feel him, all of him. Inside and out. He wanted to truly experience the beauty of Draco Malfoy all over again, for it had felt like it had been too long.

Harry's passion grew with the moans escaping Draco, he trailed kisses down the blonde's neck and all across his collar bone. Draco hitched his hips up into Harry's pelvis, grinding the two of them eagerly together. Fuelled with heated need, Harry found himself quickly undoing Draco's shirt and laying waste to it on the floor. Draco was fumbling with Harry's clothing as well, attempting not to lose the touch between them at the same time.

The room had appeared with one bed and not much else, and it was all they need anyway. Draco pushed Harry gently off of him and the boy staggered backwards, their eyes raked hungrily over one another.

"Fuck Harry, you're so sexy," Draco mumbled with wide, silver eyes as he leapt forward, pushing Harry backwards onto the bed and devouring up every inch of the boy.

The only words they spoke were each others names, moaning them out loud and pleading for more with the tone of their husky voices. Harry explored every inch of Draco's skin, wanting to completely map it out and remember every inch of his body just so that he could recall at any time just how beautiful he really was.

Flawless, that was what Draco was to Harry. Utterly and completely flawless. A Rembrandt painting, or an angel that descended down just for Harry to be with.

As they were both down to just their bodies now, pushing eagerly up against one another, Harry stopped momentarily to look down at Draco's flushed face. His lips were puffy and pink, his neck was blooming more love marks, and his platinum hair was a beautiful mess on top of his perfectly formed face. Harry reached out and caressed it, wanting to make sure he was real instead of some lucid dream. Draco did the same, obviously needing to assure himself that this was reality too, that the boy on top of him wasn't some sort of facade of his imagination. They smiled lovingly at one another, and they could see all of their true emotions passing between their locked eyes.

Harry slowly pushed himself inside of Draco, the blonde winced but didn't break eye contact as he wrapped his legs around Harry's hips, urging him forward. Harry pushed all the way inside and paused for Draco to adjust to the intrusion.

"I love you, Draco. Merlin, I love you so much," Harry whispered adoringly down at him. Draco's eyes went wide before a breath-taking smile crossed his face, "I love you too Harry, and I believe I always have been in love with you," he admitted, leaning forward to kiss Harry's plump lips as they began to move as one, together.

They made love so much more sweetly than before; they allowed themselves to completely open up to one another to express all of their truest feelings. They came loudly at the same time, clinging their sweating bodies together and then collapsing in the absolute bliss.

Then came the Silence. That beautiful wave of nothingness, where the world seemed to stop and all that existed was the two of their rising and falling chests, their hearts beating madly inside under their skin.

Reluctantly, it had to end. And as it was nearing past curfew, they pulled apart and retrieved their clothes after casting Scourgify on themselves to clean up. They exchanged adoring smiles with one another between pulling on their trousers and shirts, righting their hair the best they could. New, budding love marks could be seen up both of their necks, and they were both proud to parade them around.

"Soon," Draco promised in one word all that Harry needed to be promised as they embraced goodbye. He knew what it meant. It meant that soon, one day, they would be able to be together and never have to part. They could stay in bed all day, basking in each other. As soon as school was over, Harry was going to end up staying in one room with Draco for months at a time if he got his way.

"I love you so much, Draco," Harry whispered, planting a sweet chaste kiss on his boyfriend's lips.

"And you know I love you too, my Harry," Draco cooed in response, blushing at the terms of endearment that honestly meant the world to the both of them. They entangled themselves from each other's embrace and smiled one more time before their masks slipped into place and they left the Room of Requirement, automatically going separate ways to their respective Common Rooms.

Although he appeared the same cold exterior, Harry felt absolutely wondrous inside. His mood only slightly faltered as he entered the nearly empty Common Room to find Hermione waiting for him with a book in her lap by the fireplace. He went over to sit beside her on the couch and said nothing, he merely peered in into the flickering, small flames.

Hermione took one look at him and could tell, for it was so obvious. The mussed hair, messier than usual, the puffed lips, the swollen and bruised neck, the fact that his shirt wasn't buttoned properly, and of course the way his emerald eyes were dancing like never before.

"Ron's upstairs in bed already," she announced, Harry merely nodded in return.

"Harry...can I confess something?" she asked slowly, this surprised him. He thought he was going to come into the Common Room tonight and be scolded and reprimanded by the Head Girl, but instead she wanted to confess something?

"Of course," Harry said, turning towards her now and paying full attention.

"It's about Ron," she began, furrowing her brow, "He, um, he seems rather...sensitive and...well, I guess there's no real other way to say it; I'm worried, Harry. About Ron, that is. I think he's gone off the deep end, to say the truth. I mean, when we're alone, the only thing he can talk about is Malfoy. And it's not the usual talk about how much of a git he is but...he keeps telling me how he wants him dead, to pay for his Father's death," Hermione was frowning largely now, her eyes boring into the fire as Harry looked over at her.

"But Draco didn't kill Arthur, and he wouldn't have. Draco wasn't even a Death Eater," Harry defended him gently, "Lucius paid for that, and I made sure of it".

"I know. But Ron can't tell the difference between Father and Son and the way that Malfoy has treated us the past seven years doesn't help either..." Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples gently, "I'm just worried that one of these days he'll take it all a little too far, you know? I was just wondering if you could maybe watch out for him, when I'm not around?"

"Of course. I'm always watching out for you guys anyway," Harry admitted, which was true in itself. He may always been in a poor mood, but other peoples safety and sanity always came before himself. That had never changed and he knew it never would, he would always be there to protect and save his friends.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled over at him, but it quickly fell. "Now could you please tell me what is going on with you and Malfoy? You know I won't tell Ron, I promise," she added in the last part quickly.

Harry found himself grinning at the change of conversation, he couldn't help it. His mind drifted back to only twenty minutes ago when he was holding the blonde naked in his arms, lovingly.

"I know you won't, you're not stupid enough to," his grin turned into a smile. Hermione found herself taken aback by this, it was one of the very few times she had seen Harry smile in nearly a year.

"We ran into each other this summer. We didn't really talk, because we didn't need to. There was something about him, something I can't quite explain. All I can say is that when I'm with him I...I feel like I can really be myself. I feel like he really understands and knows me, understands what I went through and really feels almost like I do," he said truthfully.

Hermione was about to retort that they understand too, that his friends were there for him also. But the look in the boy's eyes told her something different, it told her that Harry was being honest and not to doubt that maybe there were attribute's of her and Ron that were lacking and made up for in Malfoy. She could easily tell that it was something Harry needed.

"He makes me so happy, 'Mione. And I know I make him happy, too. And we need that, we need to be happy sometimes," Harry was blushing now, but he couldn't help but keep the bright smile off of his face.

"Are you, um, seeing Malfoy?" Hermione questioned, even though she already knew the answer given the state of Harry's neck. Harry blushed a deeper crimson.

"Yes. I love him, a lot Hermione. And he loves me, too," he spoke firmly and Hermione didn't doubt his statement. It would have to take a whole lot of love to make Harry happy again, and obviously that's what Malfoy was doing for him.

"Well, I'm glad for you then, Harry," she said, putting her hand on his knee and smiling, "You deserve to be happy and...and so does Malfoy,"

"Thank you, 'Mione. It does mean a lot," Harry beamed now, he felt much better than he had in a long time, he only wished Draco could be there too. The blonde's promise of 'Soon' resonated in his mind, keeping him smiling. "I hope one day, Ron'll think so too,"

Hermione sighed heavily at that but didn't say anything. She wasn't so optimistic about the redhead's reaction, and she wished that this hypothetical 'one day' was as faraway from today as possible. Hermione didn't think Harry was going to be that lucky.

They soon found out just how unlucky he was going to be, and how soon that day was coming for him.


	3. Part Three

**Silence:**

**Part Three**

A/N: Read, review and enjoy! Thanks a ba-jillion to PeruvianDarkness, such a wonderful Beta! ^_^ *Sends love and pixel-cookies*

Now, there will be one more part to this story so don't fret, the loose ends shall be tied up!

Thank you to thrnbrooke, ruth hammond, littlesprout, Bob Da Peach, HappyWoman, suddon, Blue-Eyed Chica, Lilith G. Astroll, BoxOfTrinkets, and Angelsrm.

_All I heard was a shout_

_Of your brother calling me out_

_And you ran like a fool to my side._

_Well the shot, it hit hard_

_And your frame went limp in my arms_

_And an oath of love was your dying cry._

_So wait for the stone on your window, your window_

_Wait by the car and we'll go, we'll go._

"Somebody, help! Professor, Headmaster!" Dean's panicked voice rang through-out the silenced hall. Ginny had her wand pointed at Seamus' collapsed body, lying nearly lifeless on the Great Hall floor as she attempted to Enerverate him.

It was an off set how uninterested Harry seemed in the situation as everybody else erupted. Students milled around the fallen boy. Professor McGonagall, followed quickly by Snape and Dumbledore, pushed through the crowd.

"Eneverate," McGonagall said. It didn't work. "Finite Incantartum," Seamus still lay motionless, Dean kneeling in tears beside him.

"I believe this to be a symptom of the Drought of Half-Death. We were brewing it months ago at the start of term," Severus spoke calmly and many students began to whisper to each other. Dumbledore frowned looking down at the boy.

"Will you be able to brew a sufficient cure, Severus?"

"I will acquire the proper ingredients from Professor Sprout and Hagrid" he said, nodding, before he quickly swept back up to the High Table. Dumbledore levitated Seamus' body into the air with the snap of his fingers.

"Who would do such a thing, Albus?" McGonagall questioned with a wavering tone.

"It remains as much a mystery to me, Minerva, though it seems evident it was a fellow Seventh Year in Severus' class. Alas, let us deal with the safety of young Mr Finnigan first," Dumbledore then addressed the crowd of students, "Please return to your lunches," he said- everybody immediately obeyed.

"It was Potter!" Dean accused in an angry bellow, standing up and pointing over at the raven-haired boy. Everybody began whispering louder now, looking over at Harry who merely sat staring up at the enchanted ceiling and the late November snow that fell from it.

"Mister Thomas, that is quite the accusation! Have you any evidence?" McGonagall asked most seriously.

"Do I need any? He's a bloody murderer out to get us all!" he yelled, Ginny clinging to his side and shakily whispering to him to calm down.

"Oh no! Don't foil my plans, Dean!" Harry whined dramatically as he rolled his eyes into the back of his head. The strangest reaction to his words was that Draco from across the hall burst into laughter. Everybody was utterly taken aback by this; Malfoy laughing in a stomach-cramping way, almost to the point of tears at a joke Harry had made.

Harry couldn't help but smile at the sound of the love of his life laughing so freely.

"Mister Potter, now is not the time for sarcasm. Please follow us," Dumbledore reprimanded. "I expect all those taking Professor Snape's NEWT-level Potions to accompany Professor McGonagall to my office immediately. You shall be questioned shortly" and with that, Dumbledore brought Harry and Seamus' floating body out of the Great Hall and towards the Hospital Wing.

"Sir, I didn't do it," Harry said monotonely with his hands shoved in his pocket.

"The situation is against you, I am afraid. With Poppy as my witness, I would like to question you under Veriteserum. I do apologize m'boy, but your attitude of late does not assist you, either,"

"Sir, sir!" a voice called from behind them. The Headmaster did not stop to wait for Draco to catch up to them, he soon fell into step beside Harry who felt relieved and confused by his presence.

"Professor, I can prove Harry didn't do it," he said urgently as the Headmaster raised his brow, "I recall back in September when we were brewing the Drought, Harry failed that lesson. Snape even tasted his Potion and nothing happened," he explained as Harry smiled thankfully at his secret lover. He was doing that a lot lately; smiling, and it was all due to Draco.

"This shall be taken into consideration; though I fear Mister Thomas will not be satisfied so I shall still question Mister Potter under Veriteserum. Now if that is all, I do believe your attendance is required in my office Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore's tone was not to be reckoned with, so Draco silently squeezed Harry's lower arm comfortingly before strutting off with his usual airiness. The small touch did not go unnoticed by the elder Wizard.

Madame Pomfrey was given the details of the situation once they entered the Hospital Wing. She stabilized Seamus and then retrieved the one drop of Veriteserum they had in storage. They sat down in the Medi-witch's small office, Harry across from his questioners after he was given he dosage. Madame Pomfrey began shakily scribbling down Dumbledore's questions and Harry's answers.

"Did you, Harry Potter, have anything to do with or any prior knowledge of Mister Seamus Finnigan being given the Drought of Half-Death?" he asked.

"No"

"Do you have ill feelings for Mister Finnigan?"

"Yes"

"Do you believe he deserved what has occured?"

"No"

"Have you ever planned an attack on him?"

"No"

"Can you, Mister Potter, brew the Drought of Half-Death successfully?"

"No, sir"

"Very well then, it seems as though you are not the perpetrator. Alas, what is your relationship with Mister Malfoy?"

"Albus! I fail to see what that has to-" Poppy began shrilly.

"He's my boyfriend. Since August," Harry glowered at the Headmaster, having to answer the question due to the Truth Serum. What business was that of his?

"I see," Dumbledore turned to the shocked Mediwitch, "Poppy, would you please file that transcript away? And is there anymore Veriteserum in our stores?"

"I-I'm afraid not, Albus," she stuttered, blushing from the news of Harry's strange, new relationship.

"Now we must rely upon the other students honesty," he frowned, as if not trusting the other Seventh Years. "Poppy, Severus shall report to you as soon as the counter-Potion has been brewed. Mister Potter, you are excused for now," and without a glance at the seventeen year-old boy he swept out of the office and towards his own to resume the interrogation.

Harry waited in the Common Room for his friends to return, and when they did they both looked rather sombre. "How'd it go?" he asked, the littlest bit curious as to whom the culprit could be.

"If it was one of the Seventh Years, nobody was talking," Ron grumbled, plopping down on the large red sofa next to his best friend.

"Dumbledore told everybody you were questioned under Veriteserum and that you didn't do it," Hermione added in reassurance. Harry could really care less about what others thought, anyway.

"I doubt Dean will let it off," Harry mumbled.

"Or Seamus, when he wakes up," Ron agreed, Hermione couldn't help but concur as well.

The next morning, the front page of The Daily Prophet read;

"HOGWARTS STUDENT POISONED BY UNKNOWN CLASSMATE," the article assured Seamus' full recovery within the week due to Snape's Potion making abilities. However, it also reported the hostility between the afflicted and Harry, saying he was the prime subject. Despite his questioning under the Truth Serum, all eyes were still acutely on him.

That evening Harry met with Draco in the Room of Requirement as per usual after curfew. They immediately curled up on the four-poster bed, sighing contentedly. "How'd the interrogation go, love?"

Draco stiffened immediately, "Fine," he grumbled.

Harry could automatically tell that there was more to the situation. He knew Draco inside and out, and he knew just by his tone what he meant. He had done it. He had poisoned Seamus - attempted murder. Neither moved as Harry faintly whispered, "Why?"

"You should hear the lies he says about you! The way he treats you..." Draco brought Harry's face to his own, holding him gently by the chin as they looked deeply at one another. "I will not stand for anybody hurting you, Harry. You mean too much to me,"

"Thank you, love, but he could have died. What if they questioned you under Veriteserum, too? I couldn't lose you, and you'd have a one-way to Azkaban after that," Harry frowned, he couldn't even bear the thought of Draco behind bars, surrounded by Dementors day-after-day.

"Honestly, you think I am dense enough to have not thought that through? There is a counter to every Potion, and Dumbledore wouldn't have thought a mere Seventh Year could brew one to Veriteserum. My Father taught me years ago, he thought it necessary to get out of tight situations," Draco shrugged, he had it all covered and he was hoping for Seamus' demise, that much was evident.

"You would have been a killer," Harry stated flatly.

"Like you," Draco kissed his forehead, "Neither prospect bothers me,"

They lay silently for sometime before Harry groaned and buried his head deep in Draco's chest. "What is it?"

"Pomfrey and Dumbledore know about us. I was asked of the state of our relationship while the Veritserum was in effect," he admitted with a light blush.

"That old coot can't keep his nose out of anyone's business can he?" Draco snarled but quickly let his anger slide. "Oh well, neither is foolish enough to speak of it to others. And who would believe that anyway? 'Yes, just the other day I heard some odd news that Harry Potter was seeing that Malfoy fellow!' 'The-Boy-Who-Lived? And Lucius Malfoy's son?' 'Oh yes, indeed,'. They would sound off their rockers," Draco mocked and then laughed heartedly.

Harry joined in, loosening up a bit, "Yeah I guess you're right,"

"Of course I am, I am a Malfoy and Mal-"

"Malfoy's are always right...blah blah blah," Harry teased, and then grinned over at his now pouting boyfriend and suddenly flipped him onto his back, crawling on top of him. He claimed Draco's mouth with his own before the blonde could protest. It was awhile before he made it back to the Common Room that night.

XXXX

"You're dead, Potter," Seamus growled, shoving Harry from behind sending him tripping down the last few steps to the Third Floor.

Harry regained his footing and shot the Irishman an icy glare, "Am I really? You'd think if I were dead I'd have stopped breathing," he snipped sarcastically, readjusted his shoulder bag and continued down the corridor towards Professor Flitwick's Advanced Charms class.

"I would shut your smart arse up if I were you, Scarhead! We all know who tried to poison Seamus!" Dean shouted after him.

Harry shrugged and continued into the last class he had of the week before end of term exams, Hermione and Ron were already waiting for him at their usual seats. As he settled in beside Ron, he shot Draco at the front of the class a small smile which was covertly returned.

"Hogsmeade tomorrow. You coming, mate?" Ron quipped.

"Have to finish getting some gifts," he replied as an affirmative, as Christmas was fast approaching now.

November had passed with no real significance for Harry. His bond with Draco was continuously growing stronger and his connections with his friends and classmates were loosening themselves. He spent many hours everyday sneaking off to meet with Draco, just to happily envelop in their silence. Although his general mood was improving, Harry distanced himself further than before. Hermione and Ron didn't say a word about it, because at least now he was smiling every so often.

Then there was the whole situation with Seamus. Most of the students still believed that Harry had poisoned him, despite Dumbledore's absolute committal to the fact that he was questioned under Veriteserum. He shrugged it off and just withdrew himself further from the public eye.

"Are you sure you don't want to come to The Burrow, Harry? It is going to be awfully quiet at Grimmauld Place," Hermione frowned, not entirely comfortable with her friend spending the entire holidays alone.

"I'm sure. I'll be over Christmas dinner, anyway," he shrugged, looking through his Charms textbook.

"New Years too, right mate?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded. For some reason, he wasn't particularly looking forward to being surrounded by the Weasleys even if it was just going to be for two nights. He just couldn't stomach all the happiness anymore, or the fact that he could so easily tell how they were all hiding their true feelings; burying their sadness and anger over losing Arthur. The only one who showed his emotions in that respect was Ron, and he only did so around Draco.

Late that night, after most of the students had finished their studying for end of term exams, Harry met with Draco in their usual room. As they lie down gently kissing one another, Harry felt that familiar warmth fill him. Over five months, Draco had become the absolute world to him; he knew he wouldn't be able to survive without him. He could never lose him.

"For the holidays… what are your plans?" Harry asked, twirling his fingers around Draco's alabaster hair as his head rested on Harry's chest.

"I was requested home by Narcissa, and there are numerous Gala's the Head of the Malfoy Estate is expected to attend," Draco's bitter tone really extenuated his dislike for the upcoming weeks. "What about you, love?" he asked in a much softer, sweeter voice.

"Well, uhm, just staying at the Noble House of Black. Alone. And, y'know, just wondering, if it wouldn't be much trouble, if you could Floo over sometimes?" he blushed, this was him admitting he couldn't stay away from Draco for too long of a time period.

Draco smirked up at Harry devilishly, "I'm that irresistable then? Can't get enough of me can you?" he teased lightly, enjoying the red that continued to deepen up his lover's neck and cheeks, it made him look so adorable, "I can't either, Harry. I don't think I want to go a day without you, but I fear we must," he sighed seriously, resting his head back down on the brunette's slowly rising chest.

"But you can come over at least a couple of times?"

"Of course, as often as I can," Draco promised, gently running his fingertips down Harry's arms.

"Good, because I wouldn't want it any other way," Harry smiled happily.

"So you say Noble House of Black, eh? I visited there a couple of times as a child, wretched place that is" he furrowed his brow in memory, the dank narrow house with its ancient peeling wallpaper and moulding mantle places.

"I had contractor's fix it up last summer. That was why I had that flat in London, because it wouldn't be ready until a month or so ago. I haven't seen it yet, hope they didn't muck it up," he mumbled, grabbing onto one of Draco's hands stopping it from tracing invisible lines and entwining their fingers tightly.

"Me too, because I shall refuse to sleep in a hole in the ground,"

"You're going to sleep over too?" Harry asked hopefully, squeezing Draco closer to him.

"If I'm allowed, of course. The Malfoy Manor is large enough to just have my Mother lose her sights on me for days," Draco grinned, he could disappear to anywhere in the world for a week and Narcissa wouldn't notice, because the enormity of the Manor was not exaggerated.

"I can't wait to have you all to myself,"

Draco pulled gently away from Harry, straddled him and looked lovingly down at his face and those sparkling emerald eyes. He reached up a hand to caress his soft skin, his own silver eyes burning with every ounce of love he had inside of him. They both had identical, beautiful smiles of adoration as they peered at one another.

"You already do have me. All of me. Forever,"

XXXX

"C'mon, Ron! Please!" Ginny whined, yanking on her brother's forearm. She wanted him to go into Zonko's with them, for a rather unknown reason she was being rather pushy in the middle of the snow filled Hogsmeade streets.

"Alright, alright! Fine," he grumbled and shot a look at Hermione, knowing she wouldn't want to join them and then turned inquiringly towards Harry.

"I think I'd best avoid wherever Finnigan is," Harry said pointedly, cocking his head in the direction of the joke shop, where Dean and Seamus could be seen from the windows, fooling around with a couple of the products.

"Right, meet you guys up at the Three Broomsticks then?" before he could hear their response, Ginny had pulled him out of the crowded streets and into the shop.

Harry sighed and, falling in step with Hermione as they walked silently with numerous bags in tow. "Need to get any other gifts?"

"No, I have mine for Molly coming in Owl mail," she explained, "You got everyone now, don't you?"

"Uhm...there's just one more I need to get," he blushed gently, thinking about the platinum haired boy he needed to find a present for.

"It's for Malfoy, isn't it?" Hermione asked, even though she already knew the answer before Harry nodded. "Harry..."

"Do you think he'd like something like a necklace? How about a ring? I really haven't any idea what to get him, he already has everything he wants in the world," Harry had cut her off, knowing that some sort of scolding was going to happen. He had heard it all by now, how dangerous it was to be with Draco, but Hermione's only valid point was that Ron would explode when he found out. Harry had repeatedly explained to her that it was worth it, he was worth it.

"Harry, I really think you should put an end to your and Malfoy's...relationship," she hissed under her breath, not wanting passerby's to overhear her. She was surprised when Harry abruptly stopped walking and stood in her path, his face darkened considerably and he glowered down at her, a menacing glare in his emerald eyes that could cut through stone.

"Hermione, Stop it," he growled, "I am in love with Draco. He is in love with me. I am happy, truly happy for once in my life. Just accept it. Ron will have to accept it too, whenever he finds out. So just give it up, because nothing can ever make me leave Draco. Ever. Do you hear me? Do you understand that I would rather die than not be with him?" Harry snarled, he was sick of hearing all the protests. All he wanted he could never have, and he was tired of it. Weary and worn out, and so he was just going to blindly take what he wanted from now on, and all he wanted was Draco.

"Y-you'd rather die?" Hermione stuttered, but Harry was already spun on his heel and heading out amongst the throng of students in an angered stride. Hermione stared wide-eyed after him.

Harry passed by numerous potential shops, but he knew he wouldn't find anything. Draco literally had everything material he could want. Quills, ink, expensive jewelry, custom made cloak fastenings - what in the world was he supposed to get him? Grumbling and eventually giving up, Harry made his way back to The Three Broomsticks after having allowed the winter air to cool him down from exploding at Hermione.

Ron and Ginny were already there, grinning and giggling at a table near the back. It took all of Harry's strength not to look over at Draco who was in his peripheral vision, sipping Butterbeers with Blaise Zabini. He sat down next to Ginny. "Hey," he mumbled, Ron pushed him a Butterbeer he had already ordered for him.

"Where's 'Mione?"

"Dunno" Harry shrugged, "I had to get something alone so she went off elsewhere," he lied.

"So you wouldn't believe it, mate! Fred and George are now the official suppliers of Zonko's!" Ron squealed, apparently this is what Ginny had wanted to show him.

"Really? That's fantastic, I'll make sure to send them a letter," Harry sounded as excited as he could, and Ron smiled thankfully at him- Harry knew Ron had noticed his improved attitude, despite the Seamus situation. If only he knew…

When Hermione joined them not much later at the table, she was quiet and withdrawn. She held loosely onto Ron's hand beneath the table but didn't say a word, nor did she join into the conversation. Nobody asked what was wrong, but it was obvious to see how distraught she was and how worried Ron came to be.

On the way back to the Castle, she pulled Harry aside to speak privately. "Harry, I want to give you your Christmas gift early," she said, shoving a book she had retrieved from one of her bags hard into Harry's stomach with wide eyes.

Harry raised his eyebrow and accepted the book, "You didn't have to...why? Why early, I mean?" he said, looking down curiously at the book. Advanced Rituals for the New Age Wizard was the title.

"I-I bookmarked the page that, uhm, might be of interest to you...uhm...Happy Christmas," she hugged him and ignored as he stiffened in her arms and then hurried to catch up with Ron and Ginny. Harry was left, standing in the light snowfall staring down at the book curiously.

Due to the exams weighing down most of his time and still wanting to sneak off to see Draco every couple of hours, Harry didn't sneak a peek at the bookmarked page in the Advanced Rituals book until the day before they all went home on the train. He was laying in bed, attempting to ignore Ron's snores as he squinted his eyes in the moonlight at the pages.

'Affinitas Connexio - The Relationship Bonding Ritual? Hermione is actually suggesting I do this with...Draco?' Harry thought, quickly scanning the page of the ritual. The results of which, would tie the two together until one wanted to break the bond. The fact that the bond was breakable, however, Harry didn't like.

He read further through the book, until he came to one of the last pages. 'Animus Connexio - The Soul Bond. It can only work when both souls will accept each others for eternity, this bond is only severable within the first 24 hours of its creation. This is the strongest of all magical and natural bonds. Two people who perform this ritual will be inseperable,' Harry found his mouth twitching up into a smile.

'I've got Draco's Christmas gift and Valentine's gift all in one now,' he thought, and began to memorize every line of the Soul Bond Ritual.

Just after midday the following day, Harry was lugging his school trunk out of a trunk. "Are you sure about this, Harry? We always have the extra room for you, dear!" Molly frowned as Harry put up his hand in protest. He was standing outside of one of the two cabs they got from King's Cross Station, Harry just outside of Grimmauld Place now.

"Please, Molly, that is very kind of you but...I need to do some things on my own. See you guys at Christmas!" he called to the occupants of the backseat and then kissed Molly's cheek goodbye. He politely waved and watched the taxicabs drive off before disappearing into his narrow, re-decorated house.

He scanned his surroundings upon entering- it looked entirely different from the Noble House of Black he was used to. The entrance way was more open, less crowded, as was the rest of the house. The walls were no longer peeling and grey, but painted with dark navies, and contrasting beige. The drawing room looked fit for company to have tea; the kitchen was just the perfect size with all of the proper amenities. The backyard still needed work, but Harry knew he wouldn't mind gardening when the summer came around.

The entire upstairs was just bedrooms, and some unmoving portraits of Sirius' family hung on the walls, thankfully Mrs. Black was finally, somehow unstuck. Harry thanked the decorator's thoroughly for that one. The bedrooms were all a deep crimson colour, each with one bed and a dresser to match. Simple but the necessities were met; Harry doubted he'd have much company all at once anyway.

The Master bedroom was emerald, however, and had more than one dresser, a vanity, an attached bathroom, a long, wide window with velvet drapes and that same old, large four-poster bed that Sirius used to sleep in. Harry settled his things in there, finding it the most suitable room as he would have to get used to living in the House.

It irked him being here, however. Although it looked entirely different and much more clean than before, it still smelt of Sirius. Around every corner in which Harry would turn, he caught a glimpse of that happy, mirthful face grinning down at him beneath shaggy black hair.

Before his thoughts could really dampen the beginning of his holiday season, Harry heard a loud thumping come from the drawing room downstairs as he just finished putting away his clothes. He jumped off the edge of his bed and immediately hand his wand in hand. Ever on high alert, especially since Grimmauld Place no longer had the Fidelius Charm on it, Harry became fully attentive. He slowly walked down the old steps and towards where he had heard the noise. His breath caught in his throat as he came upon the closed door of the drawing room. From inside, there was the slight shuffling of feet.

Harry had the Stunning Curse on the tip of his tongue as he snapped the door open. He sighed with relief as he saw Draco looking at one of the bookshelves with mild interest. Draco turned to face Harry, whose wand was still out-stretched in defence.

"Tetchy?" he smirked and sauntered toward the brunette shifting on his feet.

"Draco? I-I didn't think you would show up so soon..." Harry trailed off, blinking as he slowly put his wand away.

Draco's face fell "Oh. Well, I can just go finish up some business at the Manor..."

"No, no! That's not what I meant, love! You just surprised me is all," Harry smiled and walked over to pull the taller man into his arms. "I would offer you some tea but...I haven't had time to walk down to the market," he blushed, knowing the fridge and kitchen cupboards were barren.

"Well how far is it?"

"I saw one 'round the corner on the taxicab over. You wouldn't mind..."

" 'Course not, I have all the time in the world," Draco quickly interrupted him, "Go and get your cloak then," he kissed the top of Harry's messy raven hair and released him.

It was quite the experience, Draco's first grocery shopping trip. The blonde never failed to amuse his mocking lover with his endless inquiries about the Muggle world. "Funny things...what are these?" Draco raised his brow at the debit machine in which he was pressing the buttons of. The cashier, a pretty young redhead, attempted not to goggle Draco with a goldfish expression as she rang in Harry's items.

Harry chuckled and put his arms around Draco's waist, pushing his torso up against his back ignoring all the flushed females or disapproving looks. "That's a debit machine, Muggles put cards in them to pay sometimes," Harry whispered.

"To pay? How does a card pay?" Draco cocked his head- this was all very curious and new to him.

"You, erm, load or borrow money onto the card so you needn't carry it all about," he explained with patience.

"That seems like a rather odd thing to do," he commented, shrugged and stopped playing with the buttons. He jerked his head backwards to peck Harry on the cheek.

"Ahem," the cashier cleared her throat and blushed when the handsome couple turned their attention to him, "That'll be 142 pounds, sir," she was quickly paid in cash before Harry loaded the bags into the cart and led the way out onto the cold streets littered with snow.

They found a nearly deserted alley to shrink and lighten their groceries to fit into a small satchel Harry had for that very purpose. After returning the shopping cart to the market, they walked in the brisk late Winter afternoon slowly in the direction of Grimmauld Place.

"I didn't get the chance to say so before, but the House of Black looks much better," Draco said.

"It really does, doesn't it?" Harry agreed, he was going to send the decorator's an extra tip later on.

They walked passed a Chinese restuarant and Harry stopped, bringing Draco to a halt with him. "Are you staying the night?"

"If I may...though I have business to attend to tomorrow morning,"

"Wanna order in Chinese?" he asked, a small grin on his face. He loved getting asian food delivered. Although the Dursley

's did not order it often.

"Order what and why do it in Chinese? I never knew you could speak Mandarin, Potter," Draco raised an eyebrow as Harry blinked dumbfounded at him for a moment.

"Wow. You've never ordered in. Alright, give me a moment," and without another word Harry disappeared into the restaurant only to return a minute later, stuffing a pamphlet in his pocket.

"What was that about?" Draco asked as they continued walking home.

"You'll see later, love. For now let's get out of the cold, I still have some unpacking to do..."

"If you think that I'm going to let you unpack, you have another thing coming, Potter," Draco hissed huskily, his tone suggestive as he peered seductively over at Harry.

Harry grinned, "I haven't shown you my bedroom yet..." and with that said, they hurried home, hungrily glancing at one another the whole way.

It wasn't long before Harry was gazing down at Draco's angelic, naked form on his bed as they moved rythmatically together as one. In, out, grind. They were perfection; two pieces of a puzzle that only fit as One. They craved every inch of each other's skin as Harry thrust his member hard into Draco who writhed and moaned his lover's name. They came together and collapsed, entwined and in bliss with their chests heaving.

I have no idea how I got so lucky, to have Draco. The epitome of perfection. A God among men. All to myself. Mine. Harry thought, holding the relaxed blonde close to him. He wanted to tell his boyfriend all of them, every single emotion he made him feel. So he did. He poured his heart out, unstopping even as Draco brushed away a few fresh tears of happy appreciation. Afterwards Draco reciprocated, letting himself let loose his own feelings of fully devoted love.

It was a while before they finally crawled out of bed so that Harry could demonstrate to Draco what ordering in Chinese was. They sat waiting for the food to be delivered as Draco toyed curiously with the cordless telephone, enjoying the dead dial tone whenever he turned it on. "Will you be back tomorrow night?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Sorry darling, but I can't. But the night after is Christmas Eve, all I must do then is make a short appearance at the Annual Parkinson's Gala and then I'm all yours till you are expected at The Burrow," he smiled softly.

"Urgh, don't remind me. I'd much rather just staying here with you," Harry groaned, although he was grateful for the time he had before then, Christmas Eve, to prepare the romantic evening he wanted to share with Draco.

XXXX

It was perfect, the mistletoe hung in the right spot, the rose petals set, the reservations made, the necklaces laid out neatly in their cases, the candles ready to be ignited by the flick of Harry's wrist. Draco arrived at six pm on Christmas Eve, just like he had promised. Upon arrival, Harry kissed him chastely on his pink, supple lips and then proceeded to point his wand at him.

Draco's eyes went wide as he put up his hands in defense, "Harry, what are y-"

"Terrenus Caecus," Harry flicked his wand and quickly grabbed ahold of the stuttering blonde. "Don't panic, I'll take the curse off once we get outside...I don't want to ruin your present," he smirked and slipped his hands into Draco's.

"Really, Potter, was making me temporarily blind necessary? Could you not have just asked me to close my eyes?" he sneered, blinking uselessly as he was led through the House of Black to the foyer.

"You actually thought I'd trust you not to take a peek?" Harry returned playfully as he slipped on his shoes and jacket.

Draco began smirking, "Touché, love," he began sniffling, "It smells like...incense in here"

"That it does, now c'mon we are going to be late," Harry shoved the blonde out onto his doorstep into the cool, winter breeze. After locking the door behind him, Harry lifted his curse on Draco who immediately rubbed at his eyes and sighed with relief.

"Harry...are you wearing a suit?" Draco raised his brow and felt himself nearly melt at the cute pink tinge that crept up his boyfriend's cheeks at the question despite the cold.

"Er, yeah, is it that bad?" he flushed with embarrassment, looking down at the Muggle-fitted black suit that he wore with a red tie. Draco chuckled and linked his arm with Harry's.

"You look stunning, hun," he leaned over and pecked his warm cheek as they slowly started out.

"And you look fucking beautiful," Harry grinned. Draco was in dark navy dress robes, a silken button-up black shirt beneath, his cloak clasped together with the Malfoy family crest, his platinum hair perfectly groomed. Upon his ring finger was that same, familiar family signet ring.

"So where is it we are heading to?"

"Dinner, of course," Harry smiled, "To the only French restaurant in the district,"

"French cuisine? That's my favourite, how did you know?"

"Intuition," he shrugged.

They enjoyed their quiet walk to the restuarant, which was actually situated in and old brick home not far from Harry's place. It was dimly lit by candle light, the walls painted an atmospheric, romantic red, the few tables inside draped in white cloth with one rose in the middle. A waitress dressed in black appeared at the door, she gave Draco's attire a strange calculating look before forcing a weary smile.

"Welcome to Chardonnay, do you have a reservation?"

"Yes. Potter at six-thirty," Harry said, slipping off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack to their left.

"Mister Potter, this way please," she said, but Harry did not immediately follow as he turned to unclasp Draco's cloak and hang it as well.

"What a gentleman," Draco teased but Harry seemed to ignore it as he led the way to their table. The waitress automatically gave them glasses of red wing and menus.

After taking a sip of the wine, Draco made a disgusted face at the substance. "Good Muggle wine is so difficult to find," he commented aristocratically.

Harry smirked over at him, "You're such a spoiled prat, y'know that?"

"You love it,"

"I do. So, I'm getting the chicken...what about you?"Draco scanned the small menu,

"The salmon looks acceptable," he clipped, placing it down and reaching across the small table to grab Harry's hand in his own.

"You look even more amazing under candle light," he chuckled at Harry's instant crimson cheeks.

"I love you," was all he could respond, as the waitress appeared at their table anyway and she blushed at their entwined hands.

"Pardon moi, mademoiselle. Avez-vous au lieu Petrus vintage de cela?" he purred in a perfected French accent, and Harry unexplainably found his trousers tighten at the sound.

"Uh-of course. Would you like me to take your order well I am here?" she asked in English.

"I will have your Salmon dish, can you add some more garnish to it? And he will be having the chicken," he finished, handing her the menus with a dazzling smile.

"Any dessert?"

"Non, ma'am, nous auront quand nous trouver a la maison," he winked as she deeply blushed and turned from the table.

"What did you just say to her?" Harry questioned, but Draco merely shrugged, obviously unwilling to tell.

It was a quiet dinner, just like they both enjoyed. They shared many loving glances and small, electrifying touches from across the table. When the bill came, which Harry was momentarily flabberghasted by, the couple was more than happy to bolt out of the restuarant, slightly hazed from the over-priced fine wine.

Much like their last evening of the summer, they could not walk one street without ravishing one another against the sides of buildings, completely oblivious to the passer-by's disapproving glances. They clawed passionately at one another, their hearts raced and lips bruised.

By the time they got to Grimmauld Place, Draco had forgotten all about his surprise and was stunned as the front door was closed and locked behind him. The incense still wafted through the house, and Harry had already taken out his wand and flicked it. The candles ignited, lighting their way sporadically through-out Harry's house. Draco's eyes went wide and his mouth dropped as Harry nervously smiled at his boyfriend, removing his cloak and hanging in the front hall closet along with his own.

"Er, did you...enjoy dinner?" he stuttered, Draco could only dumbly nod.

"Harry, what is-" before Draco could finish his sentence, he heard a small crack and all of a sudden he was alone in the entrance way of the dimly lit household. Swallowing hard, he released that glittery, floating letters were slowly appearing out of thin air before him.

'Follow the Roses', it read before disappearing into nothingness. Draco looked down at his feet where a couple of scattered rose petals sat. He looked ahead and saw them leading up the creaky, old stairs with candles on either side, some levitating by themselves and others attached to fixtures on the wall.

With no haste, Draco did as he was told and followed the rose petals, slowly a smirk working its way onto his face. He loved how sentimental Harry was becoming for him, and also how very surprising at the same time. He definitely hadn't expected such a lovely evening for his gift.

Upon reaching the Master bedroom, Draco swung open the door with excitement and found Harry kneeling before him. His breath caught in his throat, all presumptions about what was going to happen when he entered that room vanished as he looked down at a nervously smiling brunette.

"Draco Malfoy," he said immediately, firmly and with more confidence than he seemingly appeared to have, "Will you Soul Bond with me?"

Draco's mouth dropped open but he quickly closed it, retaining his own composure and holding his hand out to Harry, "Y-Yes," he hissed. He knew in full what that entailed, and it didn't bother him. It was one of the only things he wanted in this world, and his heart thumped with joy at the thought of it.

Harry smiled brightly and took the offered hand, being helped to his feet. "Not now though, but uhm...here," he held the blonde's hand lovingly and pulled him to the bed, decorated in a heart of roses in the soft candle light. On the bed lay two matching necklaces of jade on silver chains. He picked one up and flipped over the stone, showing the engraftment of his own initials as he held it out to the other boy.

"This is for you, love. It's, uhm, sort of like a promise ring...a promise to complete the Animus Connexio," he smiled even larger when Draco immediately took the necklace and clipped it on with a joyous look in his eye, Harry put his matching one on with Draco's own initials in the back of it.

"When would you like to Bond with me?" Draco asked, being led fully down onto the bed now beside Harry who wrapped his arms warmly around his lover. His Soul Mate-to-be. His future life mate.

"I-I was thinking Valentine's Day, I know it's corny but...it could be our present to each other and..." Draco cut him off with a hard kiss on the lips, making Harry immediately melt into him.

"Sounds wonderful," he whispered, pulling gently away only to reach into his own pocket. "Now for your present," he smirked, pulling out a small, velvet-lined box and handing it to Harry.

Harry blushed down at the contents of the box as soon as he opened it up. It was a beautiful, ornate ring of deep emerald, made of platinum with two diamonds on either side of the larger stone. On the inside there was an engravement saying; 'Eternal', his cheeks were a deep crimson as he slipped it onto his left ring finger. "Thank you Draco, I love it"

"And I love you, so fucking much Harry," Draco closed the distance between them, capturing their lips and pushing the brunette backwards onto the bed.

After a few moments of heated kissing; their mouths battling for dominance, Draco eventually winning as he had Harry pinned, moaning to the bed as his blonde boyfriend grinded up against him eagerly, his hands ravishing every inch of his body, Draco pulled back grinning.

"Let me make love to you, Harry,"

Harry cocked his head and raised an eyebrow up at Draco, "Did you need to ask?" was all he said before his mouth was once again claimed, the heat emenating between both men.

It was a Christmas Eve unlike any other, where both Harry and Draco felt truly free for the first time. No worries came to them, no thoughts of their bloody unavoidable past and their hard, torturous future. It was just them, their love and their presence together as One.

XXXX

January had passed slowly with little consequence, other than a couple of attempted and failed attacks by Seamus and his entourage that were placed on Harry. The media had long since died down about the entire situation, but in the halls of Hogwarts Harry was constantly looked upon as evil, bad news and a cold-blooded murderer. He didn't care, and most of the time he honestly didn't seem to notice. He was too busy relishing in stolen glances and moments with Draco, their public feud having dulled down to nothing other than a few thrown insults every couple of weeks to satisfy Ron's curiosity as to why Malfoy had become so silent.

Whenever they met in the Room of Requirement or deep in the dark dungeons past curfew, they would whisper their love and nothing more. They would bask in that silence, the quiet warmly enveloping themselves and hugging them tight just like their arms around each other. Hermione could see just how happy Harry was becoming, and she knew the reasons why and she couldn't help but feel happy for him as well, though she was still worried out of her mind.

As often as she could, she would speak to Ron about Malfoy positively. Although she was severely reprimanded verbally for it sometimes, the redhead seemed to be softening up, surely but slowly. He still loathed the blonde and blamed his Father's death irrationally upon his existence.

Then it came- Valentine's Day finally approached and the blissful, quiet couple had everything perfectly set. Hermione and Ron were to be spending the evening at Madame Puddifoot's and on a romantic walk about Hogsmeade and the Hogwarts grounds. That meant Harry and Draco had the night to themselves, which they would need. It was a Friday, February 14th. They both couldn't see past their own excitement for they knew after the Animus Connexio they could come out, and they could be openly together for other people's opinions could not change what they were. They would be unbreakable, unable to be without the other for the rest of time.

Neither could be happier when they entered the Room of Requirement. They didn't speak as they sat down on the four-poster bed and immediately brought their lips together. They had the lines memorized, and they were soon stripped of all their clothing and held in their hands a vial of deep, blue liquid and their wands.

They pulled apart from their ravishing of one another and they looked deep into each others eyes, silver crashing into waves of emerald. Their necklaces on their naked chests, Harry's ring gleaming in the soft moonlight creeping in the small window in the room.

"I, Draconis Lucius Malfoy, do bind myself to you, Harry James Potter, for the rest of ever and promise to always be yours," Draco spoke with finality, and then he held out his wand towards Harry, the tip of it began to glow a dark, red hue.

"I, Harry James Potter, do bind myself to you, Draconis Lucius Malfoy, for the rest of ever and promise to always be yours," Harry responded, his own wand meeting the tip of Draco's as the red hue ignited between them, it burst into a large, protective warm bubble that wrapped around both of the boys who shivered with the pleasure of it. Immediately they felt each other's influence, each other's presence, adoration and love coursing between them with the light.

Without removing their eyes from one another, they tipped the vials backwards and drained the blue liquid into their mouths and swallowed hard. The red hue slowly disappeared as they felt themselves calmed by the rituals potion, and then their wands and the empty vials lay forgotten on the bed. The ritual had heated up both of their libido's, they felt every cell in their bodies bursting with pleasure.

Harry leapt at Draco, unable to contain himself any longer as he hungrily brought their bodies and lips together. He kissed him fiercely with possession and passion and was over-joyed with the eager response. Their tongues danced as Harry slid his hand down the blonde's body, over his throbbing member and down between his buttocks. He slipped his fingers down there; Draco moaned and bucked his hips upwards. Harry soon pushed himself inside the tight orifice, Draco moaned and shut his eyes, the pleasure passed between them and was heightened by the ritual in process.

After Harry came, blindly screaming Draco's name, the blonde wasn't far behind. But they weren't finished, instead Draco flipped Harry onto his back and looked lovingly down in his eyes, captured his lips once more, and pushed his own still hard member into the brunette who groaned with ecstasy. For the ritual to be complete, both had to make love to the other, firmly binding them physically and emotionally.

The second time did not take long, and when they came once more they collapsed beside one another. The spell was draining their energy along with the sex, Harry curled up into Draco who wrapped him in his arms. In the mess of bed sheets, they drifted off into a deep sleep. "I love you, Harry,"

"I love you too Draco, forever and always. No matter what, I'm here," Harry mumbled, and then he was asleep with his newly, bonded mate not far behind.

And then the world came crashing down upon Draco as they were rudely, harshly awakened by enraged bellowing. He still felt Harry in his arms, but his mind was reeling as to what he was waking up into. Harry was slowly waking up himself, grumbling and mumbling as he blinked his tired eyes.

Suddenly Harry shot straight up and onto his feet, despite his nudity he stared with a blank expression at the two in the doorway. Ron and Hermione stood there, Hermione holding onto her boyfriend's arm as his face was red with anger, his wand gripped tightly in his hand.

"You fucking traitor! How the fuck could you, Harry? Fucking Malfoy behind my back? Who the fuck do you think you are, 'eh? What, did you and him have a Murderer's-For-Life-Pact or something?" Ron screamed angrily, Draco too was on his feet and neither of the boy's seemed to respond to the emotional outburst of the redhead as they protectively put their arms about one another, still quite in the buff.

"I love him, Ron. With all my heart. He makes me happy, happier than I have ever been," Harry stated, ignoring Draco's appreciative look as he stared hard at Ron who was attempting, and failing, at compressing his anger.

"Listen, Weasley, this doesn't really concern you or any petty schoolyard rivalries. We are all grown-ups here, are we not? Harry and I have been together for six months now and nothing will ever make us part, not even you," Draco said calmly.

"Ronald, please! Just c'mon, lets finish off our Valentine's Day elsewhere, okay-" Hermione was cut-off as Ron turned to her and shoved her hard onto the floor as she squeaked and looked up at him in fear. He quickly turned his attention back to the naked boys, still holding one another.

"Fuck you, Potter. And fuck you too, Malfoy! FUCK YOU!" Ron raged, his own magical energy began to wisp around him in a strange aura, his chocolate eyes glinting with anger.

"Ro-"

"Avada Kedavra!"

Ron's voice echoed through-out the room and the corridor behind him. The bright, green light emanated from his wand in a large burst that headed straight for Draco. And everything seemed to suddenly stop, as if time paused itself.

Harry gave Draco a side-long, loving and understanding look before stepping between the blonde and the spell. Draco attempted to yank hard on Harry, his mouth opened soundlessly as Hermione cried from the floor, jumping to her feet. The light struck Harry hard in the chest, he did not scream in agony but a small smile quirked its way onto his lips. He collapsed, and at the same time so did Ron from the energy used from the Killing Curse.

Draco caught Harry's limp body, his mind reeled and he felt a strange, extremely painful lose inside of himself. He felt the True Soul Bond tugging restlessly at his heart and his soul, such a new, strong bond. Stronger than any other bond in the world, and this one was irreversible.

Draco was on his knees, Harry in his arms. There were tears on his face, he knew Hermione watched wordlessly from the distance but he did not care. His tears fell hot and fresh down onto Harry's face, his eyes still wide but that emerald seemed to be seeping away. Draco sobbed loudly now.

"Harry-Harry, please no...oh Gods no, Merlin Harry I love you, come back..please, don't go. Don't leave me, you can't leave me. Harry," he cried, holding tight to the boy who was completely lifeless in his arms. He shook him, he rattled him, he kissed his cheeks and his forehead where the faded lightning bolt scar sat. That fucking scar. Draco hated that scar just as much as Harry had. The fucking scar ruined his life.

"Harry, my love, I love you. Please come back," he cried. But the emptiness of his Animus Connexio bond told him that he was gone, that he was alone. There was absolutely no doubt about it, no question whatsoever to be answered anymore.

Harry Potter was dead.


	4. Part Four

**Silence:**

**Part Four**

A/N: Read, review and enjoy! Thank you so much to my wonderful, amazing, awesome Beta PeruvianDarkness!

This is the last part to this story, I hope you all enjoy it!

_Oh Valencia,_

_With your blood still warm on the ground_

_Valencia,_

_And I'll burn this whole city down._

_Valencia_

_With your blood gettin' cold on the ground._

_Valencia_

_And I swear to the stars,_

_I'll burn this whole city down._

Harry Potter was dead.

Harry James Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, dead.

Draco's soul-mate, his one and only, the only person in this world who could make him smile- make him happy- was dead. Lifeless in his arms... nothing. Those emerald eyes were empty. But that strange, sardonic smile still lay on his face.

Hermione was wailing as she called for the Professors. Ron's body was bound by her spell, though he was still unconscious. Draco didn't seem to notice his nudity or the sudden presence of Snape, Dumbledore and Lupin. He didn't notice, nor did he care whatsoever. All that mattered was that Harry was dead and never coming back to him.

He would never kiss those lips again, hear that soft, broken voice or share that perfect silence. There wasn't any more of that Silence.

Noise had erupted in the Room of Requirment. There were hands on him that he harshly pushed away.

Finally he looked up, teary-eyed and flushed , still clinging to Harry's naked form. He looked up at Hermione and saw the tears that streamed down her face then turned to a distraught but tight-lipped Severus. He looked hard at the Head of Slytherin, a man he had known and confided in most of his life.

"Sev," Draco choked out, and immediately the Potions Master approached him, kneeling before him on the other side of Harry's body. Severus reached out a hand and put it on Draco's shoulder. Draco knew Severus would have more than a million questions running through his head, but appeared to push them all in the way to comfort Draco.

"Sev...w-we bonded. And...Merlin, Sev, I love him...please d-don't make me leave him. I-I can't. I love him, Sev," Draco sobbed between laborious breaths, his tears still falling freely, uncaring of the audience he had.

Everybody else had stopped what they were doing.

"You're bonded?" It was Remus' cracked voice that asked. Draco didn't look up from Harry as he nodded, his frail fingers brushing across the raven-haired fringe.

"Was it that friendship bond I gave Harry for Christmas?" Hermione questioned her voice heavy with sadness. Draco shook his head and finally tore his gaze upwards at the room of adults.

"It was the Animus Connexio bond," he whispered and everybody gasped, all understanding exactly what that meant.

"Oh, Draco," Severus sighed, tightening his grip on the blonde's shoulder, fully grasping just how empty and painful Draco must be feeling inside.

"It can still be severed, young Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore's calm, collective voice spoke and everybody turned towards him, "If you wish it, we can sever the bond for it is breakable within the first 24 hours. If we do not do so immediately, however, I fear you shall feel loneliness for the rest of your days without your bonded. You will not be able to take another peron's hand and you yourself shall be ultimately alone. So shall we break it? Severus, I do believe you have a good enough Potions stock to-"

"No," Draco hissed angrily, glaring up at the Headmaster, gripping Harry's body closer. "I shall not now or ever severe our bond. E-Even if he's n-not here...I'm Harry's. Forever and always. Nobody is going to take that away from me, from us," he said this firmly and without room to be reckoned with.

"Draco, you must really love him," Hermione whispered, kneeling beside Severus now, staring up at him with glossy eyes.

"I do. Always have, always will," Draco sniffled, feeling her understanding as well as the other adults in the room. Remus was beginning to break down, Dumbledore looked rather sorrowful and shed silent tears as he held onto the werewolf, comforting him.

"Please, I don't want to leave him. Not yet," Draco croaked out, clinging harder to Harry.

"Of course, m'boy. Severus, you know what needs to be done," Dumbledore motioned towards the fainted redhead, "Miss Granger, if you would please follow me. Remus, take Draco and Harry to the Infirmary, have a private room for them. I shall arrive shortly, after matters are dealt with," he ordered, and everybody immediately jumped to it. Hermione wiped her face and gave one last, long look at Harry and let out another sob before rising and following the Headmaster out of the Room of Requirment.

Severus had risen and levitated Ron's body, and Remus was now shaking as he bumbled over, crying still as he looked down at Draco. "M-Malfoy, come on now..." he said shakily.

Draco stood up slowly and put his own clothes back on after levitating them over to himself, never once letting Harry out of his arms as he did so. With slight difficulty, due to Harry's dead weight, they sauntered towards the Hospital Wing in silence.

"You love him," Remus stated, it was not a question, "He was like a son to me. First I lost James and Lily, then Peter at heart, then Sirius, Arthur and after the Final Battle, it was like I had lost Harry, too. He had...disappeared. But he was always like a Son to me and now he will never be coming back," he spoke and his voice cracked, though he did not sob any longer.

Draco looked sympathetically at the old man, he had lost so many. "I understand," he responded firmly, "Though I was quite glad to hear of my Father's death, especially by Harry's hands," he said and Remus looked side-long at him with understanding as well.

"It'll be alright," Remus assured.

"No, Lupin, it won't be," Draco shook his head and quickened his pace to the Hospital Wing. Before entering he cocked his head backwards at the werewolf and with that same, dead empty look in his once beautiful silver eyes he drawled icily, "Harry is dead. Things will never be okay," before disappearing inside.

Madame Pomfrey was in an immediate fit upon seeing Draco with Harry limp in his arms, she fretted over to him and attempted to take the brunette but he snarled in response. "I won't leave him," he spat so venomously the Mediwtich was taken aback.

"Poppy," Remus appeared calmly in the doorway, "Dumbledore requested a private room for these two, please," he whispered in explanation.

Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips and led the way to one of the private rooms in the Hospital Wing. Draco, ignoring the adults, carefully laid Harry down upon the bed and quickly followed him, his grey eyes never leaving the very still figure. He clung to his frame, wishing to somehow keep the warmth within Harry's skin although with every minute that passed, the cold came nearer.

"Poppy, may I speak with you?" Remus asked quietly in the background, escorting the Witch out of the private room, softly closing the door behind him. He understood that Draco would need his time and his privacy.

The blonde didn't know how long he lay there, but he heard many people come up close to the door and speak but never enter. He held Harry, he closed his eyes tightly and whispered his love to the lifeless body for what seemed like endless hours. He brushed his messy raven hair in between his frail fingers, his lips ghosting across Harry's skin.

The memory of Harry's body close up against his own and his silence at the bar stool next to him in the Leaky Cauldron kept rushing back to Draco, but he pushed them as far away as possible, knowing it would hurt him too much at the moment.

Finally, somebody entered the room. It was Hermione, with her eyes still puffy from crying, looking more a mess than Draco had ever seen her. He lifted his head from Harry's chest.

"Draco?" Hermione asked softly.

"Hmm?"

"May I-" she walked slowly over towards him and swallowed hard, she sat down on one of the chairs beside the bed, "May I say goodbye?" she choked out, as if tears were threatening to come once again.

Draco looked up wearily, "How long has it been?"

"It's Monday morning," Hermione explained sadly, and this thoroughly surprised Draco. It had already been a day and a half since Harry's death? He had been sitting there for that long? He unwrapped himself from Harry for the first time since the Room of Requirment and slipped off of the Hospital bed and took a look at the brunette's body. He looked empty and his skin paled, his face darkened and his hair was shedding. Draco quickly looked away and sat down beside him, his hand clasped in the dead one.

Hermione gently reached up and caressed Harry's face, "I knew," she whispered, "Thank you, Draco. You made him so happy, without you...h-he never would've been happy again...at least...at least he got to be happy," she sobbed, and then quickly bit her lip to stop the tears from falling once more.

Draco looked up at her dully, "Thank you. What's happening out there?" he asked, only slightly interested.

"They still haven't released any news. Dumbledore has your Mother here now...but she hasn't any idea what's going on. Your lawyer has also been called on by her though, as she was told it was a matter of legality," Hermione explained, "We're all waiting for you to tell us how you want the media to be handled. The Daily Prophet will..."

"I won't make a statement. But I want them to know the truth, everything," Draco said firmly.

"Dumbledore can arrange that, I'm sure," Hermione assured and sighed heavily, raking her eyes over Harry's form.

"Why did he let me...stay in here?" Draco quipped; it was strange, unsanitary, and dangerous to have allowed that.

"H-he said that it was necessary. That a bond as strong as the Animus Connexio being just built needed physical dependence for at least a day or two and that, when you were ready, you could part. It wouldn't have been safe otherwise,"

"Right," Draco nodded numbly, "I'm a Potter now," he added in as an after thought, it was true that the press was going to have a field day with everything that had come to pass. "What's happened to the bleeding Weasel?" he spat the spiteful nickname.

Hermione sucked in a breath, "He's still in Azkaban. Trial is on Friday. I think Dumbledore will keep everything hushed until the results are in..."

Draco eyed her from underneath his creased brow- he understood at least partly what she was going through from having the same feelings towards his Father when he was still alive. He had loved Lucius, just like a Son loved any other Father, but he had not agreed with his actions or his beliefs. Hermione was going through the same thing; she loved Ron, always had and would, but was thoroughly against his actions.

"I-I can't believe he- I just can't believe it," she whispered brokenly.

"Sometimes, the people who are the closet to us... we are blinded by our love for them and cannot see them for who they truly are," Draco explained but before she could interrupt he continued, "Weasley had a lot of repressed anger, I could always tell but you nor Harry could because of your love for him," he shrugged, trying to detatch himself from the situation but he couldn't, not fully.

What made it easier, however, was to understand that the Curse was meant to hit him and not Harry. There is no way, in any world, where Ron Weasley would attempt to murder Harry Potter. It just cosmically made no sense; Draco was kind of glad it was meant for him, and he would have been more than happier to take the plunge instead of his loved one. The large, black absence burrowing inside of himself wasn't worth it.

The two spent some time in silence together, which Draco was grateful for, and he reluctantly acknowledged his grumbling stomach. He knew he couldn't stay inside of that room forever, although he very much wanted to.

"I'll give you a minute...go get some food...tell Dumbledore I'm ready," he announced, standing up and slinking lifelessly towards the door.

"Are you sure you're ready? Don't push yourself, Draco. The Bond is very dangerous because of how new it is..."

"I'm sure," he cut her off, and quietly opened the door and stepped out into the Hospital Wing. The early morning light made him squint his reddened eyes- he felt completely drained as Madame Pomfrey immediately burst from her office, still in her own sleeping gowns.

"Mister Malfoy?" she croaked groggily, Draco with his hands in his pockets turned to raise his eyebrow at her.

"I'm off for some breakfast, and I must speak with Dumbledore," he explained with a small shrug.

"I can have him down here for your return...because if you're ready, erm, there are some uhm...papers, that must be signed...it's quite the process," she said with a sorrowful, pity look direction at him that he shook off, "Your lawyer must be in attendance before the body is...prepared and taken away, and I do believe your Mother still is awaiting an explanation. I think it would be best if you hurried along and got some food in you, and then rested up some with dear Harry as I collected everything necessary,"

"Fine, whatever," he shrugged once more and was turned on his heel out the door. He really didn't care what happened anymore. If it truly was Monday morning, then there was a definitive in Harry's absence. There was absolutely no bringing him back.

Draco found himself wanting to cry again, but he knew he was drained of tears. He sniffed and straightened his posture, patted down his greasy unkempt hair and rubbed his red eyes clear. He was still a Malfoy, albeit a Potter as well, and he must remain as such in the eye of the public. He felt so empty, that his cold exterior was no longer a mask as it once was.

He walked through the school corridors in a daze, not passing a single student on the way as it still was quite early in the morn, and he finally ended up down in the kitchens. He grabbed some toast and jam, not feeling able to stomach anything larger than that.

Upon returning to the private room, he felt much more energized physically though even more so emotionally empty. The room smelt stale... it must be Harry's slowly decaying body. Hermione was still quietly grasping onto his hand, and it looked as though she had cried some when Draco had left her. He sat back down on his chair and began brushing that same messy, raven hair, ghosting his fingers across his forehead. They sat like this until Madame Pomfrey entered the room over an hour later.

"Your Mother, Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore are here. Professor Lupin wished for me to relay to you he is taking the funeral proceedings upon himself and he plans to have them complete for a ceremony tomorrow if you so abide, as it is up to you - his spouse," she explained sadly.

"That's fine," Draco spoke barely over a whisper, "Is Sev moving the body now?"

"If you think you are ready,"

"Just give me a moment," Draco said, pointedly looking up at Hermione to take her leave as well. She nodded in consent and bent down to lower her lips gently to Harry's cheek, choking back a few tears as she did so.

"Love you Harry," she sniffled, and then was led out of the room by Madame Pomfrey.

Draco sighed and resumed his petting of the brunette, "Oh Harry, why'd you have to go and do something stupidly heroic again? Now look at me. Look at you. You're such a fool sometimes. A fool I'll always love, and that's a promise. Our Bond is unbreakable, and I am forever yours and you are forever mine, even if...even if death is between us, I can still feel you buried deep inside of me. You're there... you're a part of me. I love you so much, and I can't wait to be with you again," he blinked at his blurry eyes and brought his lips to Harry's unmoving ones, kissing the cold skin.

He finally parted and was met immediately with Severus upon opening the door. Draco merely nodded at him and allowed him entrance before turning to face Dumbledore.

"What do we need to do?"

"Just some paper work, I am afraid. And young Miss Granger here has already explained to me what you would like the press to be told, and that shall get done as soon as possible. For now, though Draco, I do believe your Mother is waiting an explanation. There are a few more procedure papers to sign, and that is all,"

"You must get your rest to, boy, I don't want to be seeing you back in here due to exhaustion," Madame Pomfrey added in sternly.

"Where is Narcissa?"

"Just outside the doors, we will give you some privacy," Dumbledore said, and left Draco alone before his Mother entered.

It wasn't a fun ordeal, revealing all his dirty little secrets to his Mother. It was just as fun as the following day was, when the Press released its official article about what had happened. Hogwarts was in a total uproar, just like most of the Wizarding World. Their glorious Saviour, bloody or not, was dead. Even Seamus was rocked by this. It was soon common knowledge that Draco Malfoy was also Harry's spouse, in full legality, and took hold of the Potter lineage and fortune willingly after his death. Even if it wasn't in the papers, it was easy to see on his face.

Hermione didn't leave his side often, which was incredibly annoying at times, but also made him feel safe. She knew everything that was happening and also kept the prodder's at bay. Draco was smart enough to see that she needed him there as well, as if being close to him was a way of being close to Harry still. She wasn't allowed contact with Ron until after his trial was complete that Friday, but she had already admitted to the Weasley's and Draco that she was never going to leave the redhead, even after what he did.

Remus had perfectly planned a small funeral service for Harry in Godric's Hollow and on that Tuesday they all had to Floo there to attend it. It consisted of only those closest to him; the Weasleys, Hermione, Draco, Severus, Dumbledore, Minerva, Remus, Neville Longbottom, and- surprisingly- his Muggle relative's came as well. He was to be buried in the Potter family plot on that cold February afternoon just past noon.

The pasture had said his words and gave the stand to Remus who walked up there shakily, freely allowing his tears to fall in front of everybody else without shame. Draco was sitting right next to the small erected podium, his hands clutched in his lap and his face empty and cold - withdrawn.

"When I first met James Potter, there was no way that I could have ever imagined him having to go through all the hardship's that he did, especially at such a young age. I was never so heart broken when I heard the fate of him and our dearest Lily Evans, and I was immediately worried about the well-being of their only Son, Harry. Harry turned out, despite all of his own hardships, to be a strong, out-standing man and Wizard. I have never met somebody who was more determined than him, more powerful or more loving. He always put others before himself, he would always sacrifice himself for those he loved, and he always knew that-that one day...he would give the ultimate sacrifice; his life.

"The last few years of his life was no tea party as we all know that, nor were the first few years either. But the one thing that never changed about Harry was that he never gave up; he never backed down, and he always came out on top. Without him, none of us would be here and the darkness would have enveloped us all. We owe him everything," Remus sniffled, bringing a handkerchief briefly to wipe his eyes dry, "We love you Harry, forever The-Boy-Who-Lived," the werewolf stepped down awkwardly from the stand.

Hermione was next, but she was in such a wreck that she could barely stop shaking to breathe let alone talk. "I-I've known Harry for seven years...and, I've never known a greater friend, a greater Wizard. H-He was always so good to everybody and...we weren't so good to him in return. W-we put s-so much responsi-sibility on him, we pushed all of our f-fears onto him for h-him to deal with them. Then when he f-finally did what we asked h-him to do, w-we were scared of him. W-We called him a murderer...I-I'm just s-so glad h-he had Draco, and knew of tr-true love in h-his last f-few months," she sobbed, looking through her tears down at the platinum blonde who stared blankly up at her.

Draco was completely masked when he made his way to the stand; he did not shake, he did not cry, he did not sniffle or shrug his shoulders. He was the perfect example of calmity, although his insides were churning with loss and grief he did not show it.

With a stone face and cold voice he spoke, sending chills down everybody's spines.

"I am not about to stand here and lie," he began icily, "You were- are horrible to him. As Hermione said, Harry did what you wanted him to do. He killed Voldemort, he killed Lestrange, Macnair- top Death Eater's. He killed my Father. But once he finally did, it was all too bloody real for you to accept. Too scary and forbidden. You may have loved him, but you still used him and, in my opinion, that is never forgivable. What you did to him after the Final Battle, completely ostracizing him, ruined him more than any murder he may have committed," Draco was speaking venomously now, he took a deep shuddering breath to calm the anger laced in his voice.

"We may have held quite the bit of animosity towards one another for the first few years of knowing each other, but then we found a certain solace in Silence. We both were so fed up with these people that so apparently loved us and cared for us but ended up hurting us in the end. We were sick of all the questions, all the strangers staring wide-eyed at us as we passed by, sick of always being looked up at in some way or another. All we wanted was to be ourselves, to revel in the darkness' we had been shrouded in and finally accepted. So we found each other last August, in pure silence. We shared that Silence together, and it was the most beautiful, indescribable thing I had ever experienced. Just being with him, knowing him inside and out, loving him and being loved back. I am so glad I had the opportunity to have held Harry in my arms, to have Bonded with him, and to stay bonded with him to this day. I will never have any regrets when it comes to Harry; except for not being quick enough and pushing him out of the way," Draco abruptly ended it there, everybody blinking up at the blonde. His sombre, accusing speech was definitely not expected.

He walked up to the coffin, readied to be lowered into the ground, and pressed his lips to the closed ebony wood. He closed his eyes, and inside of him he felt himself close to his mate. A shiver sent down his spine as he straightened up and grasped tightly at his necklace, the one that lay upon Harry's cold skin as well that was given as a Christmas present. He vowed to never remove that necklace, for it would be a constant reminder of his dearest love.

XXXX

Draco wouldn't have described the next couple of months as hard. Just annoying and lonely.

Most of his time was spent studying, getting top of the class for all his NEWT courses, completely straightening everything out that had to do with his Estate and the combination of Harry's assets as well.

The complete loss of his Soul mate and spouse did not get easier with each day, it remained the same empty feeling that drained every emotion out of Draco. He had become much like a walking board, unable to feel anything anymore. He valued his Silence more than anything else, because only then was he able to feel the closest to Harry.

During Graduation that year, there was an extremely large celebration and memorial for the life and times of The-Boy-Who-Lived. Draco didn't attend, not very willing to see a bunch of Witches and Wizard's celebrate a meaningless sacrifice of their 'war-hero'. Harry wasn't a hero to him. Harry was Harry. His Harry, brutally taken away from him by a rash redhead.

Ron's trial had gone smoothly and much better than expected, everybody was pleased with the results other than third party personnel who would have liked to have seen him locked away for ages. Pleading insanity was a good route for him, even though everybody knew it was just his hot temper that made everything fall into place as it did. He ended up being sentenced to Two Years in Azkaban, 250 community service hours afterwards, house arrest to follow along with probation, and he had to attend anger management and other types of Wizard pyschology councelling. Hermione pledged to stick by him through it all, and Ron had even apologized to Draco for everything to the blonde's face. Though Lord Malfoy had nothing of it and refused to even speak a word to the 'vernom'.

Draco just couldn't bring himself to fully forgive Ron, not just yet when the wound was still so fresh.

Once he left Hogwarts for the final time, Draco was glad he was able to have some time to himself. He immediately went to the Manor to collect all of his personal belongings, and quite against his Mother's will he was going to move into Grimmauld Place. It was homey and it would remind him of his holiday spent happily with Harry. He wanted to be constantly reminded of his own memories with the brunette, keeping close in mind and in his heart.

Before he completely left the Manor, however, Draco had other plans. He had his associates working on a side project ever since a few weeks after Harry's death. Something like a memorial to him. On July 31st, Diagon Alley would see the opening to the Potter Duel Centre. Complete with several battling stages, equipment, and teacher's Draco had personally interviewed and hired. It was all kept tightly under wraps, he didn't want anymore to know about it than necessary until the opening day.

Draco was pleased with the contractor's work on the shop, as soon as you walked in you were greeted with a large portrait of Harry that was quite becoming. Above it read; "Forever - Harry James Potter", and then beneath it a small snippet about his life, the prophecy, everything that was already common knowledge.

The night before the opening of the shop, Draco decided to move his things into Grimmauld Place. He, nor anybody else, had been there since his holiday there with Harry. It made him a little nervous, rattled and scared even. There was just something resonating about this House and Harry, something that tied them tightly together and wound Draco in with them.

Upon unpacking, Draco thought he must have been hallucinating. It must be the aura of the house coming to haunt him and the opening of the Duel Centre coming tomorrow. But he could have sworn that there, before him as he held a few of his t-shirts to put in his new dresser in his hands, that Harry stood there translucently. Much like Nearly Headless Nick, Harry stood there a ghostly figure with a goofy grin, his emerald eyes lit up mirthfully but with much of their colour drained.

"Draco," whispered the figure.

Draco went paper white, he dropped the clothes and his mouth went with them. His silver eyes automatically swam with unshed tears of months of loneliness, of missing and grieving Harry's absence. "Draco?" the figure asked gently, and then he moved. He floated, glided so easily towards him. And he was close to him, and Draco could almost feel cold breath on his cheek. It was all so real.

"H-Harry?" Draco finally stuttered, this couldn't be real. He closed his eyes, shook his head and re-opened them. But as he did, the figure of the boy he loved so dearly and deeply, his spouse and soul mate, still stood before him although slightly translucent.

"Draco, my love, it took you so long to get here," he turned his grin into the sweetest smile, he lifted his hand up and attempted to caress the blonde's face but instead he just fell through.

Draco felt shivers explode through his body, a chill ripped through him. He had never been touched by a ghost before, but now he knew what it was like though he imagined because of their connection it was much stronger than what most would feel. "Harry how-is...am I going crazy?"

Harry chuckled lowly, shaking his head as his messy raven locks fell before his faded scar, "No, Dray, you're not. I'm here...just, not really here...you see, when I died I felt something pulling on me. Tugging at my soul, and I soon realized it was your soul. It was only my body that died that day, but once you finally left my own physical self my soul was able to find a resting place where it was most comfortable. You should know ghosts can't move around...they nest," Harry's smile faded a bit but did not falter completely.

"How long have you been here?" Draco asked, his eyes still so wide as he stood so close, nose-to-nose, with ghost Harry.

"Ever since you left my body in the Hospital Wing, my soul was unbound and free afterwards," Harry smiled and closed the distance between them. He pushed himself into Draco, his entire essence that made the blonde go deathly cold for a moment, but in an almost impossibly familiar way. He didn't want the feeling to end but he felt Harry soon extract himself and was smirking up at him. "I don't think I should do that often...who knows the side effects of it," he winked and chuckled again.

"H-How are you so...okay with this?" Draco stuttered.

"Oh, love, I've had months to mourn myself. Plus, I'd still jump in front of that spell time and again if it meant saving you. Much better me than you, because without you by my side I wouldny've have lasted this long,"

"Yeah, I owe that much to Granger," Draco huffed, which was mostly true. He would have gone nutters without Hermione at his side nearly every second of the day when they were still at Hogwarts.

"Come on, I've been waiting for you for months, my love. Can we lie down together?" Harry offered, tilting his head towards the bed.

Draco wordlessly nodded and followed the ghostly figure to the four-poster bed and rested himself down in it beside Harry's floating figure. It was so eerie, but something inside of him clicked and Draco felt a small inch of happiness exploding through his every fibre. "Oh Gods, I've missed you Harry,"

"Well, love, now you never have to miss me again," Harry stared deeply into Draco's silver eyes, shining back with pure love and adoration and fresh tears of joy.

The following day at the opening ceremony of the Potter Duel Centre, Draco wore his first real, smile that glittered in the sunlight. His happiness surprised all those around him, especially Hermione who he promised he would show her a grand surprise after the shop closed for the day. He was itching to get home, to see his Harry again, to sit with him in the silence once more. Even if he couldn't properly touch him, or feel him like he used to, Draco couldn't have been happier after having lost him for so many long, lonely months to have him back again.

For there were a few things that Harry Potter taught Draco through-out their years of knowing one another. The importance of Silence being one of them, and the company you keep in your own personal Silence. But even more importantly, the value and truth of love.

Love used to mean nothing to Draco, and now it was the only thing that kept him going. Because of his strong love and bond for Harry, they could never be separated. Draco learned that if you loved somebody, you would never have to let them go for they would never leave your side, heart, mind, or soul entirely. They would always be there, in the silence, in the darkness that shrouds your nightmares and even upon your last day you are inseparable.

Nothing, not even death, can stop the love that flows between two true soul mates.


End file.
